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NEW SERIES, No. 56. 


Annual Monitor 

For 1898, 




Jn %xted Britain anb Jvslanfr, 



Sold by Headley Bros., 14, Bishopsgate "Without ; 


Mary Sessions, 30, Coney Street, York ; 
also BY 

J. and S. Gough, Temperance Hotel, Dublin ; 
and by the editor, 
William Robinson, St. Ouens, Weston-super-Mare. 





»<^ < 4 « 

Again the fast waning year has brought the 
time for counting our death roll, and for placing 
^ on record in our pages some of the lessons of 
instruction which the experience of departed 
Friends affords. There have been occasions 
during the past twenty years, when, as editor 
. looking towards the preparation of a new volume, 
I have somewhat anxiously wondered what 
material would be forthcoming of which to make 
a useful Annual Monitor. But this has never 
failed me ; and it is encouraging thus to find, 
year by year, that among those who have passed 
away there have been so many whose lives were 
brightened and strengthened by Christian faith, 
and in whose experience and example there is so 
much encouragement and incentive to seek to 



follow them as they followed Christ, as well as 
an abundant testimony that the faith in which 
they have lived has brought to them the bright- 
ness of assured confidence as the last hour drew 

I am glad to be able, by the memoir of 
F. Anton Fincke, again to bring the little com- 
pany of our fellow professors in Germany to the 
minds of Friends. They continue to claim our 
thoughtful sympathy. 

To all who have kindly furnished me with 
memorials of deceased Friends my best thanks 
are due, and are now gratefully tendered. But 
for their help it would not have been possible for 
me to prepare this little volume. 

William Robinson. 

St. Ouens, 


Twelfth Month, 1897. 

William Barcroft. 
Margaret Beale. 
Elizabeth P. Davis & 
Francis M. Davis. 
Jane Gill. 
John Glaisyer. 
Stephen Gravely. 
Ann Hunt. 
Ann K. Lury. 
Sophia May. 

Anna R. 

Sarah C. Muggeridge. 
Lydia Rous. 
Sophia E. Sams. 
Isaac Sharp. 
Bartholomew Smith. 
Martha Smith. 
Francis J. Thompson. 
Isaac G. Wallis. 
Marriage Wallis. 
Marian J. Wedmore. 

These memoirs are published on the sole responsi- 
bility of the writers, their friends, and the Editor. 



tH t— 1 (M rH TfH OO tH 










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Age. Time of Decease. 

James Airy, 83 5 11 mo. 1896. 


Sarah J. Aitken, 32 29 7mo. 1897. 

Sunderland. Wife of James Aitken. 

Henry Albright, 82 25 6mo. 1897. 


Joseph S. Allen, 77 28 2mo. 1897. 


Sarah A. Allport, 71 28 2mo. 1897. 
Beading. A Minister. Wife of William 

Mary Ann Altham, 76 23 12mo. 1896. 

Penrith. An Elder. Wife of Thomas Altham. 




Martha Arkinstall, 62 26 12mo. 1896. 

George F. Armitage, 33 3 4mo. 1897. 


Anna L. Baker, 55 7 llmo. 1896. 

Dublin. Widow of Jonathan W. Baker. 
Mabel B. Baker, 26 9 7mo. 1897. 

Hampstead. Wife of Philip B. Baker. 
Margaret H. Baker, 43 12 12mo. 1896. 


William Barcroft, 56 9 llmo. 1896. 
Grange, Co. Tyrone. An Elder. 

William Barcroft, son of John Pirn and 
Anna Barcroft, was born at Stangmore, near 
Dungannon, in the year 1839. He was educated 
at Newtown School, Waterf ord, under the care of 
Kichard Allen and Frederick Taylor, and married 
in 1886 Sarah, daughter of Joseph and Mary 

It was in his native place that his life of 
quiet, unobtrusive usefulness was passed. It 
was one of which it is not easy to write. His 
virtues were of a nature which never sought 
public distinction or even recognition. " Let not 
thy left hand know what thy ; right hand doeth " 
was a principle he so fully carried out that few 
knew how numerous and extensive were his acts 


of sympathy and benevolence. He cared for 
the temporal and spiritual well-being of those 
around him, and was greatly beloved by his 
poorer neighbours, who came confident of finding 
in him an ever-ready friend, whether they needed 
advice or more substantial help, and knowing 
they could count beforehand on his kind con- 
sideration and attention. He felt very deeply 
his responsibility for those amongst whom he 
lived, and for those with whom he came in daily 
contact in the ordinary avocations of life. His 
sympathies were very wide, and he always 
recognised and drew out what was good and 
true in others. Perfectly sincere himself, he 
expected others to be the same, and was rarely 
disappointed. Indeed this guileless transparency 
of character was one of his marked characteristics. 

Of his own spiritual life he seldom spoke, 
though his testimony to Gospel truth was ever 
ready, simple, manly, and earnest ; and his 
friends could not fail to notice, as the years went 
by, the deepening and ripening of his Christian 
character. Always of a kindly, generous dis- 
position, and throwing the weight of his influence 
on the side of right, yet it was not till after years 
of conflict and doubt, and a definite religious 
experience, that he became the humble follower 


of the Lord Jesus Christ. Then, taking all the 
accidents of birth and surroundings as talents 
given him by the Master, and as one who should 
render an account, he prayerfully considered the 
smallest details. 

Very especially was this the case in the 
matter of giving employment. He did not 
always choose the best and most faithful workers 
he could get, but those who for some reason or 
other he felt he could most effectually help in 
this way. Naturally his patience was often 
sorely tried, yet he rarely dismissed a servant, 
unless he was convinced it was for the servant's 

Such a life could not fail to have a deep and 
lasting influence, and many have gratefully told 
how his wise sympathy was the means of keeping 
them in the narrow path when their feet had 
almost slipped. No one would shrink more than 
he from praise, and this is not intended as such, 
but to show the grace of God in him. 

Always young in mind he had a great 
influence over the young, young men especially ; 
and this was due largely to the fact that though 
not of the world he was thoroughly in it. 

Being a diligent reader, there was scarcely a 
subject on which he was not more or less 



informed. He thus met each on his own ground, 
and entered keenly into his interests, whatever 
they might be. Whether making toys for a group 
of children, or working out the calculations for 
his telescope with those older, no secular employ- 
ment was ever beneath his notice, and thus he 
filled a niche too often left unoccupied by others 
of large religious experience. 

Thoroughly characteristic was the place 
which he gave to family worship, and many have 
borne testimony that the times when the house- 
hold met for " Reading " were often opportunities 
of deep conviction, enlightenment, and blessing. 
Those who have heard him pray on these 
occasions — he invariably felt led to do so — have 
often remarked on the depth and reality of his 
prayers, as of one who realized the nearness and 
omnipotence of Him to Whom he spoke. 

He was a thorough man ! But a man who 
walked with God. 

His recreations were numerous ; his telescope, 
workshop, garden, and orchard each claimed his 
attention in turn, and proved a source of interest 
and amusement to those around him. 

He was warmly attached to the Society of 
Friends, whose principles and interests he sought 
in every way to promote. He did not hold their 



views in a loose or traditional manner ; but, after 
careful and prayerful study of the Scriptures and 
also Early Church History (of the latter he had 
almost an exhaustive knowledge), he had come 
to accept those principles as identical with the 
mind of Christ for His people ; and hence his 
uncompromising and enthusiastic attitude towards 
them for himself, though at the same time 
having the warmest sympathy with all of every 
creed who loved the Lord Jesus Christ in sin- 
cerity. Many of his dearest and most valued 
friends belonged to other religious bodies. 

The cause of Foreign Missions, especially 
those connected with Friends, have in him lost a 
firm supporter. Enjoying the blessedness of 
knowing that he was redeemed by the precious 
blood of Christ, he felt the responsibility and 
privilege of sharing this blessedness with those 
who are without God and without hope in the 

He held strong views on the subject of 
Temperance, and sought by precept and practice 
to influence others to become total abstainers, 
taking a great interest in the Irish Temperance 
League and similar organizations. 

On the 10th of Eleventh month, 1896, he 
quietly passed into the presence of the Master 



whom it had been his delight to serve. His last 
illness was short, but for part of the time was most 
suffering, and especially trying to one of his active, 
independent spirit, yet borne with such gentle 
patience that even the nurse in attendance said 
it was beyond what she had ever seen. Of 
himself he would have said that he was an 
unprofitable servant. His only confidence was 
in Him " who of God is made unto us wisdom 
and righteousness and sanctification and redemp- 

Unto Him that loved us and washed us 
from our sins in His own blood, and hath made 
us kings and priests to God, to Him be glory and 
dominion for ever and ever. Amen. 
Jonathan Barcroft, 54 13 5mo. 1897. 

Grange, Co. Tyrone. 
Dan Harden, 67 17 lOmo. 1896. 

Shepley, near Huddersfield. 
Herbert K. Barratt, 31 25 9mo. 1897. 


Henry Barritt, 61 17 8mo. 1897. 


Samuel Barritt, 73 28 5mo. 1897. 


William Batkin, 73 25 12mo. 1896. 




Margaret Beale, 80 7 3mo. 1897 

Blackrock, Dublin. A Minister. 

The beloved Friend whose name is recorded 
above, entered into her eternal rest on the 7th of 
Third month, 1897, on a First-day, a day which 
she always enjoyed ; and it is with the desire that 
what is written may tend to the glory of God 
and to the help and encouragement of His 
children's faith and desires after a holy life, that 
this short memorial has been prepared. For truly 
she found her sweetest joys in seeking to please 
and follow Christ, who in the tenderness of His 
love was ever her strength in weakness, her 
comforter in sorrow, and her upholder in times of 
trial. Her dear nephews and nieces were never 
forgotten by her at the throne of grace ; many of 
them scattered far apart in distant homes could 
not be influenced personally by her ; yet there is 
the happy assurance that her letters to them and 
prayers for them have not been in vain. 

Although she was granted a lengthened life, 
yet the call home when it came, was not looked 
for by those in daily intercourse with her. She 
was so bright and cheerful, and had continued 
her accustomed household duties to the last week 
of her life, when after only a few days of 
suffering and weakness her sweet spirit was 



released. She had been subject to attacks of 
bronchitis, but in the end it was under an attack 
of congestion of the lungs that her strength gave 
way. She was clear to the end ; there was not a 
murmur nor a desire that anything should be 
otherwise than it was. She had sought and 
found her Saviour in early years, and having 
grown in faith and love to Him through the 
diligent reading and study of the Holy Scriptures, 
her soul had long been resting in His redeeming 

Being the eldest of a large family she was 
ever looked up to by her brothers and sisters, and 
was as a second mother to the younger ones ; and 
all the household felt the influence of her care 
and example ; and to the dear parents she was a 
strength and stay, always ready to comfort and 
cheer them. 

It was her lot to be often living away from 
her home. At these times she gave herself up 
fully to those with whom she resided, in self- 
forgetful devotedness to them ; and being always 
happiest whilst caring for others, she would enter 
into their pursuits, their joys and sorrows, as 
though they were her own. In later years she 
was asked to become the companion of a valued 
aged Friend, R. P. Fox of Kendal — formerly of 



Falmouth, with whom she lived ten years, and 
they became as sisters to each other. At Kendal 
M. Beale's spiritual life was greatly helped by 
members of that Meeting, to some of whom she 
became deeply attached. Isaac Brown's ministry 
and her intercourse with him and his dear wife 
she much enjoyed and valued. Her friendship 
with Hannah Wilson, whose conversation always 
tended to spiritual subjects, and that of her 
daughters, were very dear to her ; and there was 
a sympathy and communion amongst Christians- 
of different denominations in Kendal which 
M. Beale enjoyed. It was the love of one Saviour 
which drew the hearts of His followers together 
in the bond of a uniting Christian love. 

M. Beale entered with loving interest into- 
the work of First-day Schools, Mothers' Meetings^ 
those for Young Women, Meetings for Christian 
Communion, and others, both in Kendal and at 
Bishop Auckland, where she spent a few years 
after leaving Kendal. Many interesting notes of 
these meetings and of her First-day School lessons 
are found amongst her papers. It was early in 
her Kendal life that she felt the call to testify 
openly to her faith in her Saviour, which, in after 
years, as she said to her sister, " filled her with 
solemn awe," and brought her into very deep 



thought and searching of heart ; but she was 
enabled, after much prayer, to open her lips in 
testimony to that dear Saviour's love. " Bought 
by His precious Blood," she gave herself to Him, 
and grew in power and expression, and was 
recorded a minister by Kendal Monthly Meeting 
in Twelfth month, 1875. 

As time advanced Christ became more and 
more the object and the subject of her ministry. 
Our nothingness and His all sufficiency were her 
theme — 

"The Blood of Christ most precious, 
The sinner's perfect plea." 
It was her earnest prayer and endeavour to show 
Him forth by her life and conversation as well 
as by her ministry. 

Margaret Beale was for sixteen years a 
member of Dublin Monthly Meeting. Living at 
Blackrock, she attended Monkstown Meeting. 
Truly kind friends were given her here also. For 
the last two years she was but seldom able to get 
to meetings ; never through the last two winters. 
There was a longing in her heart for more Christian 
communion, more converse one with another on 
spiritual things. One day last autumn she had 
been dwelling on this subject, and knowing how 
fully the young Friends of Monkstown Meeting 



were engaged in Christian work of various kinds, 
she said, 11 How glad I should be if one or other 
of these young people could spare time to come 
and see me, and that we might have some free 
pleasant converse together." Some little time 
after, this desire of her heart was unexpectedly 
granted by one or two young Friends calling upon 
her, when such conversation, without any effort, 
was freely entered into, and she was refreshed 
and grateful for their visits. 

As the lengthening days of the early spring 
spoke of the near approach of that much loved 
season, she showed evident signs of weakening 
bodily powers ; yet it did not awaken a thought 
in those about her that the time of separation was 
so near ; but on the 1st of Third month, she 
appeared to have caught some cold, and kept by 
the fire, yet wrote a letter to a dear cousin in 
England. The next day she was more poorly, 
yet up and down stairs as usual. That evening 
remedies were applied, as pain in the chest had 
increased, though she had not spoken of it in the 
earlier part of the day. Very early the next 
morning the doctor was called in. He did all 
that could be done, but from the first he did not 
think there was hope of recovery. She knew it 
well herself and said to him, " Doctor, what should 


we do in a time such as this, if we did not know 
on whom to lean ? " He laid his hand on hers, 
saying — " The same yesterday, to-day, and for 
ever." She gave up most calmly her long 
cherished hope of seeing an orphan niece, whom 
she had cared for in childhood, and who had only 
a few days before landed in England, from a four 
years' residence in Sydney and Fiji, obliged to 
return home on account of loss of health in the 
latter place where she was engaged as matron to 
the Colonial Hospital. 

On the fifth she was too weak to speak 
except in a low murmuring tone in prayer and 
converse with the Lord, and of Him ; and through 
the night the words "Justified, justified" were 
heard, and the name of "Christ" — "He did it 
all," and many more such expressions, showing 
how her mind was stayed. On the sixth all was 
silent except the low breathing. Those who 
stood around tho loved one's bed that night and 
morning can never forget the calm countenance 
and the precious sense of the Saviour's presence 
graciously granted to the last. At ten o'clock in 
the morning she was with the Lord, and the 
watchers were alone — yet not alone. They could 
only give thanks for the preciousness, the peace 
of those few days, and the goodness of the Lord 




to the departed one, and to those whom she left 

Many were the testimonies to her Christian 
character received from both her English and 
Irish friends. One dear friend writes : — " Thanks 
for the card of my precious friend's Home-going. 
The first thought was that I knew of no one to 
whom it would be a greater joy to see Jesus. She 
was very dear to me." And another : — " The 
fragrance of her loving spirit will abide with 
thee ; I have great faith in the communion of 
saints on earth with saints in Heaven." And 
again another: — "She has found the rest and 
blessedness and freedom from care which, even 
with her calm dependence upon God, must be a 
blessed change for her." 

The expression of more than one sympathiz- 
ing friend was that " she had left a fragrance 
behind her." Whence did this fragrance arise ? 
— surely not from the natural heart. It was from 
the love of Christ abiding in her, and from her 
daily walk of abiding in Him. 

It seems fitting to conclude this little memoir 
with two stanzas from a hymn which M. Beale 
learned only three weeks before her last illness, 
and repeated to her sister on one of their last 
Sabbath evenings together : — 



Jesus, Friend unfailing, 
How dear Thou art to me ! 

Are cares or fears assailing ? 

I find my rest in Thee. 
Why should my feet grow weary 

Of this my pilgrim way ? 
Rough though the path, and dreary, 

It ends in perfect day. 

Naught, naught I count as pleasure, 
Compared, O Christ, with Thee ! 

Thy sorrow without measure 
Earned peace and joy for me. 

1 love to own, Lord Jesus, 
Thy claims o'er me divine. 

Bought with Thy blood most precious, 
Whose can I be but Thine ? 

Elias H. Bell, 71 31 12mo. 1896. 

Knock, Belfast. An Elder. 
Henry J. Bennett, 78 24 5mo. 1897. 

Brookwood, Surrey. 
Benjamin Bishop, 85 10 12mo. 1896. 

Bramley, near Leeds. 
George Bogg, 78 26 lOmo. 1896. 

Great Ay ton. 
Thomas Booth, 72 28 7mo. 1897. 

Bramley, near Leeds. 
John Bowden, 69 25 6mo. 1897. 


Ann Braithwaite, 82 20 9mo. 1897. 

Horsforth. Widow of Christopher Braithwaite. 




Ipswich. 72 13 7mo. 1897. 

Sarah A. Brereton, 77 17 lrao. 1897. 

Foxrock, Dublin. Widow of Thomas Brereton 
John Brick, 71 19 6mo. 1897. 

The Pales. 

Edwin Brown, 67 26 6mo. 1897. 


Margaret Brown, 65 27 9mo. 1896. 


Richard Brown, 93 15 7mo. 1897. 

Earith. An Elder. 
Eric W. Brunskill, 4 3 lOmo. 1896. 

Darlington. Son of Walter and Annie 


Mary Ann Bulla, 65 31 5mo. 1897. 

Belfast. An Elder. Wife of Henry Bulla. 
Martha Burdett, 81 11 3mo. 1897. 

Denby, near Highflatts. An Elder. Widow of 

Francis Burdett. 
Cornelius Burtt, 63 6 lmo. 1896. 

Tooivoomba, Queensland. 
Charlton Burtt. 27 22 4mo. 1896. 

Toowoomba. Son of Cornelius Burtt. 
Keturah C. Butcher, 65 16 12mo. 1896. 




Elizabeth Cail, 88 5 5mo. 1896. 

Great Ay ton. Widow of John Cail. 
Joseph Carson, 74 21 lOmo. 1896. 


Elizabeth Catlin, 83 28 llmo. 1896.. 

Shepherds Bush. 
Robert Chester, 82 30 llmo. 1896. 

Shipton. An Elder. 
Rachel Child, 79 10 3mo. 1897. 

Leeds. Widow of Joseph Child. 
William C. Chippendale, 18 21 8mo. 1897. 

Wyresdale. Son of Joseph and Margaret 

Basil R. Clark, 8 3 lmo. 1897. 

Croydon. Son of Charles and Ada Clark. 
Richard Clark, . 77 9 12mo. 1896. 

Middlesborough. An Elder. 
John C. Constable, 76 12 5mo. 1897. 

North Shields. 
John B. Cooke, 77 17 12mo. 1896. 


Annie Cornforth, 47 19 8mo. 1897. 

Elizabeth Cruickshank, 77 8 lmo. 1897. 

Birkenhead. Wife of Alexander Cruickshank. 
Jane Curtis. 88 21 9mo. 1897. 




Jessie Cuthbert, 45 7 3mo. 1897. 

Crosshill, Glasgow. Wife of George Cuthbert. 
Hannah N. Dalston, 53 17 6mo. 1897. 

Middleshorough. Wife of I. P. Dalston. 
Thomas T. Dann, 10 17 6mo. 1897. 

Brighton. Son of Arthur and Mary H. Dann. 
Eliza Darbyshire, 81 20 9mo. 1897. 

Enderby, near Leicester. Widow of Charles 


Elizabeth Davies, 74 9 6mo. 1897. 

Settle. Wife of John Davies. 
Elizabeth P. Davis, 70 2 lrao. 1897. 

Killabeg , Enniscorthy . An Elder. Widow of 

Samuel Davis. 
Francis H. Davis, 40 29 12mo. 1896. 

Killabeg. Son of Elizabeth P. Davis. 

The circumstances attending the removal 
of these two dear Friends were of a peculiarly 
touching character, serving to draw out, on behalf 
of their bereaved family, the best sympathies, 
not only of their own immediate circle of 
relatives and friends throughout Ireland, but of 
the public at large in the neighbourhood of their 
own home at Killabeg House, near Enniscorthy. 

" The news of the death of Mr. Frank Davis," 
writes the Editor of the local Koman Catholic 
paper, " was received in Enniscorthy with feelings 


of most genuine and profound sorrow, . . . . 
and the expressions of regret which were to be 
heard on the lips of the people of the town bore 
testimony to the esteem and affection with which 
he was regarded." 

Elizabeth Pirn Davis was for many years 
one of our most valued Elders, while her son 
held office for some time as an Overseer. Within 
a fortnight of their death both seemed apparently 
in usual health, and on the 6th of Twelfth month, 
1896, E. P. Davis was herself in attendance at 
the Meeting for Ministry and Oversight of her 
own (Co. Wexford) Monthly Meeting, at which, 
with her wonted kindly thought for others, she 
pressed a proposition for the occasional despatch 
of " Home Church Letters " from the Monthly 
Meeting to our missionaries at the various 
working centres of the Friends' Foreign Mission 

Always on the watch for the enjoyment and 
comfort of those around her, her influence for 
good was of a far-reaching character, extending 
not only to those who were dependent upon her, 
but to the members of the Protestant and Roman 
Catholic communities by whom her home was 
surrounded : and in view of the well-known 
energy and true spirit of Christian love, which 



carried her forth on many an errand of unspoken 
but none the less effectual and practical ministry, 
the words may be aptly applied to her — 
" Beautiful hands are those that do 

Work that is earnest, and kind and true, 
Moment by moment, 
The whole day through." 

In allusion to her death, the paper already 
quoted thus speaks : — 

" Mrs. Davis has left a record of charity and 
benevolence, and all those virtues which belong 
to the sphere of a true woman, behind her. 
Much of her time was devoted to the amelioration 
of the lot of the poor. Amongst those in her 
vicinity whom it pleased God to bless with little 
of the world's goods, her name was a household 
word. Her visits amongst the poor and suffering 
were ever productive of consolation and relief. 
In the other sphere in which she moved, her 
amiable and kindly disposition made her beloved 
and esteemed." 

Both mother and son were taken ill at 
nearly the same time, and of a similar complaint 
(pneumonia), the former at home, and the latter 
while in temporary residence at the Abbotsford 
Hotel, Dublin, whither he had but recently gone 
to be in close proximity to the business of the 
city firm with which his name was connected. 


The best medical skill was at once obtained, 
one of his two sisters also going immediately to 
him, while the other remained at the sick bed of 
the home sufferer. 

During the progress of the disease, neither 
patient could be told how ill the other was. 
Though so wrapped up in each other, as they 
had ever been, since the previous delicacy of 
Francis Henry's health had made him the 
constant object of solicitude to his mother, yet 
it was remarked that neither of them used to 
make enquiry for the other. It almost seemed 
as if they were given to feel that very soon, in 
either case, " the silver cord " would be " loosed," 
and " the golden bowl broken," and that in the 
full enjoyment of the promises of God, they 
would both ere long be " for ever with the 

But true and widespread was the sorrow felt 
and expressed on behalf of the two bereaved 
sisters, one of whom, after closing the eyes of 
the beloved brother in Dublin, only returned 
home just in time to join her sister in seeing the 
last of their precious mother. Truly God's ways 
are not our ways, nor His thoughts, our thoughts ; 
and yet it is precisely at such times as these, 
when the bright pictures of earth are being 



dimmed before our eyes, that we realize more 
fully how glorious and beautiful are the consola- 
tions of the everlasting Gospel, and how sweet 
and sustaining the assurance of our blessed Lord, 
that He will " receive unto " Himself all those 
who " sleep " in Him. Thus of our dear friends 
it has been written : — 

" They sweetly sleep in Jesus : precious comfort ! 
Encircled in His loving, strong embrace. 
Evermore blest, they now behold His glory ; 
In company they gaze upon His face. 

No farewell partings marred the separation ; 

A few short days, and both had met again 
In heaven, where no sorrow ever enters, 

And where God's people never suffer pain. 

O wondrous joy ! O glorious re-union ! 

Can we not picture with what glad surprise 
They clasped each other's hands in yonder City, 

And looked upon the King, with raptured eyes. 

Swift, sudden change !— One moment here in 
suff 'ring ; 

The next an upward soar to realms of light. 
Translated and transformed to God's own image, 
And robed in garments, spotless, pure, and white. 

Not dead, but living now, the friends you mourn 
for ; 

Reigning above with Him who died to save. 
The love which brought the Saviour down from 

Hath made them both victorious o'er the grave. 



And now, eternally, supremely happy, 
They live for ever in the Master's smile. 

Be comforted : not long the Lord will tarry ; 
You'll meet again : 'tis but ' a little while.' 

Most tender Saviour, Thou alone canst comfort 
Or raise the heads with grief and sorrow bowed ; 

Oh ! wilt Thou now reveal in all its radiance 
The silver lining of this heavy cloud ? 

Draw near Thyself, and speak sweet words of 

Give Thine own peace to every sorrowing heart. 
Lord, grant that all may meet again in heaven, 
With Thee to dwell, and nevermore to part." 

William Davis, 72 14 8mo. 1897. 

Enniscorthy . 
Ernest P. Dawes, 23 26 lOmo. 1896. 

St. Johns Wood, London. Son of Benjamin 

and the late Caroline Dawes. 
Susanna D. Doeg, 69 24 12mo. 1896. 

Scotby, near Carlisle. An Elder. Widow of 

Kobert Doeg. 
Jane Dommett, 65 4 3mo. 1897. 


Anna Doubleday, 78 16 5mo. 1897. 


Annie Douthwaite, 73 2 6mo. 1897. 

Achworth. Widow of William M. Douthwaite 
Oulielma M. Drewett, 86 19 8mo. 1897. 

Luton. Widow of William Drewett. 



Mary Ann Eaton, 68 19 8mo. 1897. 

Sheffield. Wife of Henry Eaton. 
Johnston Elliott, 11 16 5mo. 1897. 

Besshrooh. Son of Joseph and Sarah Elliott. 
Lydia D. Evens, 45 22 llmo. 1896. 

Leytonstone. Wife of Frederick G. Evens. 
Mary P. Everett, 85 16 12mo. 1896. 

Ipswich. Widow of Thomas Everett. 
Mary J. Fairbanks, 55 2 lOmo. 1896. 

Pechham. Wife of William Fairbanks. 
Joseph Faren, 76 12 3mo. 1897. 


Martha Farnish, 73 22 9mo. 1897. 

Bradford. Wife of Joseph Farnish. 
James Fellows, 81 23 4mo. 1897. 

Ashton-on- Mersey. 
Olivia Fengard, 25 23 7mo. 1897. 


Maria Ferris, 75 23 2mo. 1897. 

Franz Anton Fincke 68 4 2mo. 1897. 

Minden, Germany. 

For many years F. A. Fincke has been 
known by some of the young Friends who have 
been to Germany to study the language, and not 
a few have been indebted to him for assistance 
in its acquisition. He was very humble-minded 



and retiring in disposition, but was very thorough 
in whatever he undertook, and would steadily 
plod on until his end was attained. 

His parents were Eoman Catholics, living in 
a village near Iserlohn in Westphalia. They 
both died when he, their only child, was about 
six years of age. Some near relative was 
appointed as his guardian, and sent him to a 
Eoman Catholic school, and subsequently to a 
seminary, to be trained as a teacher. But feeling 
uneasy about some of the Roman Catholic tenets, 
he left that institution and became a farm 
labourer : his strength, however, was not equal 
to this work and he relinquished it. 

Having now inherited a little property, he 
spent it in attending lectures at a university. He 
met with a few books published by Friends in 
England, and was struck with their views about 
wars and fighting. On learning that there was a 
little company of Friends at Minden he went 
there, and conversed with some of them on these 

Shortly after this, on being served with a 
summons to be enrolled in the army, he told the 
military authorities that his conscience forbade 
him to take up arms and become a soldier ; in 
consequence of which he was tried by court- 




martial, and sentenced to be imprisoned for dis- 
obeying the laws of the country. 

This was in the year 1855, and his case was 
brought under the notice of the Continental 
Committee of the Society of Friends in England, 
by the minutes of which it appears that his 
imprisonment was to last for about three and a 
half years, the first portion at Minden and the 
remainder at Wesel on the Rhine. 

In the early part of the present century 
Christian and Ernst Peitsmeyer, two brothers 
professing with Friends at Minden and Pyrmont, 
were punished for refusing to give military 
service, by being placed bare-footed in a room 
the floor of which was composed of planks set 
edgewise and slanting and at some little distance 
apart. This species of torture was subsequently 
abolished, but not until after F. Anton Fincke 
had been subjected to it, which he found induced 
great bodily suffering, as he could neither stand, 
sit, nor lie down without pain. In his slow and 
quiet way of describing this to a Friend, he said, 
— " And I will tell thee how I managed to get 
some relief. The prison allowance of bread was 
more than I required to live on " (he was remark- 
ably abstemious) "and so I made of the rest pads 
for the feet, and getting up into a corner, found 
myself in a lessened state of torture." 


Samuel Gurney, a member of the Continental 
Committee, wrote on his behalf to the King of 
Prussia, and received a reply that the King had 
the subject under his immediate notice. About 
a month later, intimation was received that a 
relaxation in the severity of the treatment at 
Wesel had taken place, and that the duration of 
his imprisonment had been shortened. 

About a year after this, John Yeardley and 
two of the German Friends visited him in the 
prison, when they heard a favourable report of 
his conduct under his trials, which he bore in a 
patient, Christian spirit. 

Subsequently to this, Eliza P. Gurney, with 
Robert and Christine Alsop, when visiting on 
religious service amongst the Friends at Minden, 
Pyrmont, and Obernkirchen, concluded to go to 
Berlin, where they had an interview with the 
Eoyal Family; in the course of which they 
entreated the King to redress F. Anton's Fincke's 
grievance. Thereupon the King asked one of his 
adjutants for the "Rapport" from the prison 
authorities at Wesel, with regard to the prisoner's 
behaviour ; and these authorities having given 
him a very good character, the King said, " The 
best way to release the man will be to expel him 
from the Military Union." This was accordingly 
done and he was set at liberty. 



Friends having become interested in his case, 
he came over to England and became a 
student in the Flounders' Institute, where he 
availed himself to the full of his opportunities 
for study. His somewhat shy nature kept him 
perhaps more shut up within himself than was 
the case with others, and his firmness in follow- 
ing his convictions, as evidenced during his prison 
experience, made it no easy matter to turn him 
from his own way. 

A fellow student with him at the Flounders' 
Institute remarks that whilst he was always 
cheerful, he did not seem very sociable, probably 
in part from his ignorance of English ; but also 
from the state of his health, which had been 
injured by the harsh treatment he experienced 
whilst in prison. It was very noticeable that he 
seldom referred to his personal history except 
briefly in reply to definite questions ; and he 
never assumed any credit to himself, or put on 
the air of a martyr. It fact his references to his 
prison experiences were sometimes made with a 
touch of humour that pleasantly relieved the 
painfulness of the subject. 

F. A. Fincke was a diligent student, and 
though not of brilliant ability, occasionally gave 
evidence that he was a man, even at that time, of 



no mean attainments. He felt specially attracted 
to the study of mathematics and languages, 
eventually making considerable progress in Latin r 
Spanish, French and English. Botany and 
chemistry also had a share of his attention, more 
especially the former. During the last few years- 
of his life he gave considerable thought to short- 
hand, of which he was preparing a system of his- 

After studying at the Flounders' he became 
tutor in a private family in England, and then 
was engaged as teacher of a junior class at New- 
town School, Waterford. Whilst there he spoke- 
rather more freely about his own history, the 
most painful remembrance being that he had been 
entirely disowned by all his relations and friends,, 
through having associated himself with the 
Quakers. They would pass him in the streets 
without noticing him ; and every familiar door 
was closed against him. 

Eventually he returned to Minden, where for 
some years he taught the children of Friends and 
others, giving also classical lessons to young men 
preparing for university or other examinations in 
general knowledge. Success in passing these 
examinations reduced for these young men the 
period of compulsory military service from three 
years to one. 



F. Anton Fincke was not given to much 
expression as to his religious sentiments ; and he 
was moreover somewhat slow of speech ; but he 
was closely attached to the views held by Friends, 
and a very regular attender of their meetings for 
worship. Occasionally he was able to come to 
London and attend the Yearly Meeting. These 
opportunities he much valued, and he was most 
grateful for any little attention shown to him. 

In a letter written in 1896, he remarked, "Thy 
letter revived my desire to undertake some work 
in the Lord's vineyard. Though I have often 
been inclined to believe that it is not of much 
use to try spreading the principles of Friends in 
Germany, yet lately I have often been reminded 
that it is our duty to follow the example of our 
Lord. He often visits men by His Holy Spirit ; 
though sometimes He may find a decided refusal, 
He will mercifully repeat His visitations and 
invitations. In the same manner we ought to try, 
again and again, whether it may be possible 
through our Lord's assistance to move some 
people to come to true communion with Him, 
and to eternal life. Therefore I feel pressed to 
try once more whether it might not be possible 
to spread the principles of Friends all over 
Germany. Though it may be the case that we 



do not perceive direct success, yet it may be, that 
a little seed may grow gradually and bring forth 
much fruit later on. I agree with the expression 
I found in the ' Friend ' that the peculiar 
doctrines of Friends are specially suitable to the 
time in which we live, and are in closest sympathy 
with the theological spirit of the age. 

" At present there is a great movement in 
Germany against the military system and warfare. 
On the other hand Socialism is increasing, and a 
great number of Socialists try to abolish all 
religion. Therefore I think circumstances demand 
a renewed trial and activity. Though perhaps the 
military system and warfare may not be brought 
to an end in a short time, yet if the people are 
moved to listen to the inward teachings of our 
Lord's Spirit, and are brought to true anward 
Christian life, then all contrary things will perhaps 
slowly but certainly and steadily decrease. I am 
much obliged for thy sending me a little book on 
the Atonement, and am very glad to see it." 

For many years F. A. Fincke lived in the 
house of Johann Peitsmeyer, in Lindenstrasse, 
Minden, where the meetings of Friends are held. 
His room presented somewhat the appearance of 
a hermit's dwelling place, and was stored with 
books in all directions. 



In a recent letter he had remarked that he 
had been too busy to be ill. But in the early part 
of 1897 he caught a severe cold which resulted in 
his death on the 4th of Second month, when he 
quietly and trustfully breathed his last. 

A Friend in writing about him remarked, 
" He was very slow and reserved, but the more 
known, the better liked." 

John Fisher, 84 1 8mo. 1897. 

Hannah P. Fowler, 87 13 5mo. 1897. 

Sydney, New South Wales. An Elder. 

Hannah Pole Fowler was for so many years 
known and respected amongst the Friends living 
in Sydney, that it seems fitting to place a record 
concerning her in the " Annual Monitor." 

Although not remarkable for gifts of 
utterance, even in conversation, yet by her kind- 
ness of heart and Christian cheerfulness, with a 
hopefulness proof against all discouragement, she 
proved herself, throughout many years, and often 
under very trying circumstances, to be a true 
u mother " over the little group of Friends in the 

She was born in 1809, in the neighbourhood of 
Bristol. She had been lame from childhood, and at 
length underwent an operation, the diseased foot 



being amputated by John C.Nield,a medical prac- 
titioner from Lancashire, for whose professional 
care she was always very grateful. 

In 1833 her father, Francis Fowler, emigrated 
to the United States, taking all his family except- 
ing his daughter Hannah, who had established a 
good business in Bristol, as a Friends' bonnet, cap 
and shawl maker. A Friend who still remembers 
her thus, speaks of her as being of a happy, sunny 
disposition, greatly respected and liked. 

In 1853, Dr. J. C. Nield with his wife and 
family emigrated to New Zealand, accompanied 
by H. P. Fowler, who for some years remained 
with this family, to which she was warmly 
attached, and in which she might be said to act as 
assistant mother. 

This was during the troublous times of the 
Maori war, with which they were at times brought 
into close and unpleasant contact, and in conse- 
quence of which she and her friends lost a large 
portion of the money they possessed. 

In 1862 they all went to Sydney, where Dr. 
Nield practised in his profession, and Hannah P. 
Fowler commenced business in a little shop in 
Castlereagh Street, where for fully thirty years 
she lived, always with the same cheerful, sunny 
atmosphere attending her, by which so many, 



especially of her younger friends, were attracted 
and influenced. She had seen Sydney in its 
earlier stages of growth, and many were the 
changes she could describe. For some years she 
carried on, in connection with her stationery 
business, a registry for servants, in the prosecu- 
tion of which her rooms were crowded by those 
seeking places, and mistresses needing their 

Hannah P. Fowler was a Friend by convic- 
tion as well as by birth. She was nominally a 
member of Bristol and Frenchay Monthly Meet- 
ing up to the time when Sydney became an 
acknowledged Monthly Meeting in connection with 
London Yearly Meeting. Situated as her home 
was, near the centre of the city, it became the 
rendezvous of Friends, and was almost more used 
by them, for a considerable time, than the 
Meeting House itself. The week-night meetings, 
held in her little sitting-room, often proved times 
of spiritual blessing and refreshment ; and so 
many were the plans of work formulated there, 
in connection with the First-day Adult School^ 
Children's School, and other agencies, that her 
house might almost have been called the " Power 
House " of the Society in Sydney ; and no little 
of that power seemed centred in herself, in the 



loving personal interest she exhibited in every- 
thing calculated to promote and build up the 
cause of her Divine Master. 

By age and by service she was fitted to be 
an Elder of that Monthly Meeting ; and however 
much she shrank at times from the responsi- 
bilities which such an office involved, she never 
failed to fulfil them in the way her conscience 
dictated. But to the younger portion of the 
meeting she was more than Elder, she was mother, 
a "link which knit the generations each to 
each." It was pleasing to note that her hopes 
for the future of Sydney Meeting rose higher as 
she drew near to the end of life. 

Probably some of her happiest hours were 
those she spent as hostess, whether prior to meet- 
ings, when her guests were older Friends, or with 
younger ones on First-days, between the time of 
morning meeting and afternoon school. Her 
helpfulness will never be forgotten, nor the 
pleasure she evidently felt and never disguised, 
in offering this free hospitality ; and to many, 
both the helpfulness and pleasure will be likely 
to serve as an inspiration for days to come. A 
beam from the " Sun of her soul " evidently shone 
bright through her loving spirit. 

To her and to her guests alike, when the 



time came that these gatherings had to be given 
up, the blow was a heavy one. It came suddenly, 
and to her friends seemed irreparable ; while for 
her, it marked a period when warfare was over, 
and armour had to be laid aside. Removed also 
to a distance, so that friends could not con- 
veniently drop in to see her as formerly, she, 
though never ceasing to long for these privileges, 
appreciated with thankfulness the kind thought- 
fulness of those around her, and expressed with 
smiling face her sense of deep gratitude for any 
little kindness shown. 

Though her bodily powers were failing, her 
spirit was still willing, and she only waited for a 
further summons from the Master whom she had 
so long loved and served ; nor did she ever forget 
from whose hand the mercies of her life had 
always come, or fail to realize in her times of 
need, a comforting sense of His own presence and 

A younger member of the Meeting, in 
writing about her, remarked : — " The last time I 
went up to see her was with E. P. ; at first H. P. 
Fowler did not recognize me, but afterwards knew 
me as well as ever. We three had a little meet- 
ing for worship, and I think this was the last one 
she took part in ; we felt it to be a time of 



communion with our beloved Master. Some 
verses were read from the fourteenth chapter of 
John (loudly so that our aged Friend might hear), 
and prayer was offered, that she might feel the 
nearness and comfort of her Saviour in the closing 
days of her pilgrimage." 

Her desire, oft repeated, was, that when He 
came for whom she waited, she might be found 
ready, watching ; and so it was. Her final illness 
was not long continued — only for a few days. 
Though at times seeming to be conscious, after 
this attack she never rallied, but simply " fell 
asleep" without a struggle. 

From the same pen came the following 
account of the funeral in the Friends' Burial 
Ground at Kookwood, some miles from Sydney. 
" The day was a glorious one, the Heavens one 
vault of beautiful Australian blue, the air clear 
and cool, the sun shining brightly, a fitting day, 
it seemed to me, to give back to earth the body 
of one whose loving, tender spirit had so long 
served the beloved Master and His people. 

" In the two carriages that followed were 
several Friends, and at the cemetry others met us. 
Daniel Clark and I followed next to the coffin, as 
representing the older and younger of the Society. 
The meeting at the grave was sad and soul- 



stirring, and yet a joyful one, in that all seemed 
to feel that it was but the passing through the 
gates of death to her joyful resurrection. 

" Several bore testimony to her worth and her 
useful life, and to the good influence she had 
exercised, very especially upon young men. A 
clergyman of the Church of England who was 
present spoke of a thirty-five years' friendship, and 
what a good, true and noble friend she had been 
to him and to others. One Friend spoke of the 
joy given by the knowledge of her life being hid 
with Christ in God ; that though, so far as this 
world was concerned, they had parted for ever, 
yet that in so far as they too were in Christ, they 
could look forward with sure and certain hope to 
that great day of the Lord when He would claim 
His own, and when His servants would be united 
for ever. 

"Though the spoken words seemed heartfelt 
and so fitting, yet I believe that in the pauses of 
silence and stillness there was heard even the 
voice of the Lord Himself, speaking to the children 
of His love. And so 'He giveth His beloved 
sleep.' " 

A Friend who had visited nearly all the 
Australasian colonies, and who had personally 
witnessed the effects of this dear old Friend's 



daily " life and conversation," writes thus : — 
;t What strikes one as remarkable in the life of 
the late Hannah P. Fowler, is how she, an invalid, 
poor, comparatively uneducated, lame and deaf, 
attained to a position of so much influence for 
good, not only among Friends of her own Meet- 
ing, but also among many others from distant 
parts. Her cottage became a centre of influence, 
and a meeting place for all classes of visitors, 
both from home and abroad. Not a few of these, 
after being in her presence and coming into touch 
with her spiritual life, went away refreshed and 
strengthened for the duties of life, or for service 
for their Lord. 

"The only solution that meets the case is 
that she was one who lived in daily communion 
with her Lord and Master, and thus ' out of 
weakness was made strong,' with ' a heart at 
leisure from itself — ever ready to soothe and 
sympathise. How stimulating should even a 
lowly life like hers be to us all, under whatever 
disadvantages we may labour, to more faithful 
witness-bearing for Christ, which will not only 
enrich us with blessings, but make us also a 
blessing to others." 

Needs there the praise of the love-written record, 
The name and the epitaph graved on the stone ? 



The things we have lived for, let them be our 
story ; 

We ourselves but remembered by what we have 

Ernest H. Fricke, 32 27 7mo. 1897. 


Sophia Fry, 59 30 3mo. 1897. 

Darlington. Wife of Sir Theodore Fry. 
Dorothy A. Frizzell, 19mo23 3mo. 1897. 

Llandrindod Wells. Daughter of Harry and 

Eva M. Frizzell. 
Jane Gill, 85 18 8mo. 1897. 

Dewsbury. An Elder. Widow of Benjamin 


The subject of this memoir was wont to 
remark that the reading of biographies was often 
discouraging, because the characters were repre- 
sented as so faultless, the best traits being almost 
exclusively dwelt upon, so that the reader was apt 
to despair of reaching the standard thus held up. 
It may, therefore, be well to say at the outset 
that Jane Gill was no exception to the rule of 
human frailty and fallibility. Of this she was 
herself very conscious ; and, once persuaded that 
any opinion she held, or any practice or habit to 
which she had been accustomed was faulty, it 
was at once abandoned. 


She was the daughter of George and Mary 
Thornton, of York. Her parents were not in 
affluent circumstances ; but they, especially her 
mother, made every effort to give their children 
the very best education within their reach. That, 
it is needless to say, fell considerably short, at 
the beginning of the century, of what is attain- 
able by the humbler classes in its closing decade. 
Nevertheless, Jane Thornton and her two sisters 
received such a training as enabled them, when 
they reached young womanhood, to become school 
teachers themselves. 

Her mother received deep religious impres- 
sions at the time of losing her only son in his 
infancy. This great trouble was over-ruled for 
her soul's good, and was the means of her con- 
version. All her three daughters were brought 
up in an atmosphere of deep religious feeling. 
The effect of this upon Jane was very apparent. 
Her convictions led her, at an early age, to a 
definite experience of a change of heart, and she 
joined the Methodist body. She became very 
zealous in the performance of religious duties, 
going regularly to "class," frequently taking 
part there in testimony or prayer, and by extreme 
diligence in private devotions, emulating the 
example of the founder of Methodism in the 



habit of early rising for this purpose, until her 
health began to suffer through her austerity, and 
she came to realize that she had neither the same 
constitution nor the same work to do as John 
Wesley. She was esteemed in the religious 
circle among whom she now moved, both on 
account of her zeal, and because of her good 
voice for singing. Her acquaintance with the 
Wesleyan hymn book was extensive, and the 
words and tunes which at this time became 
familiar to her remained fixed upon her memory. 
She would frequently while away lonely hours 
during the last few years of her life by singing 
over some of these favourite hymns. 

After the death of her mother, the other mem- 
bers of the family being in situations away from 
York, the care of the aged father devolved upon 
Jane. This made it needful for her to obtain 
some employment which would permit of spend- 
ing most of her time at home. Teaching, 
therefore, had to be abandoned. About this time 
she became acquainted with the Society of 
Friends, and was surprised to find that a religious 
body existed, whose tenets corresponded so 
exactly with the views which had been gradually 
forming in her own mind. Tn connection with 
these views she used to relate how she became 



convinced of the consistency with the New 
Testament of the principles and practices of the 
Society of Friends in relation to the ministry, the 
so-called "sacraments," and plainness of dress 
and language. Of these things she often said 
she was persuaded, -not by imitation of any one 
else, but " in the same way that the early Friends 
were led to see them." As she yielded to these 
convictions she by degrees became as a stranger 
among the Wesleyans. She could not, as 
formerly, respond readily to the call of the class- 
leader to take part in the meetings, as she began 
to feel that the Divine Leader was the only one 
whose mandate she must follow in such exercises. 
It was now that she began more than ever to 
discover the truth of the Lord's words — " Straight 
is the gate and narrow is the way that leadeth 
unto life." She became more and more singular 
among her associates, until the climax seemed 
reached in the matter of dress and language. 
She finally abandoned the Methodist meetings 
and began to attend those of Friends. These 
changes were not made without a very severe 
struggle ; indeed she at first had resisted her new 
ideas, believing them to be suggestions of the 
enemy. The change of dress and language was 
an especially heavy cross to her, so much so that 



she thought this thing at least she could not do. 
She felt the burden so much that she asked the 
Lord to take away the sense of this obligation 
for a time, until she was better prepared for it. 
Her request was granted, and for some time the 
requirement to take this step left her. She always 
thought this was a mistake on her part, and that 
she suffered loss by it ; that what she ought to 
have done was to pray for strength to be obedient. 
But conviction was, at length, fully yielded to, 
and she felt wonderfully helped over this trying 
ordeal. It was especially difficult for her to ad- 
dress her father with the singular pronoun ; but, 
as she stedf astly pursued the path of duty, diffi- 
culties vanished, and, in some cases, an actual 
change for the better seemed to follow in the 
respect with which she was regarded by those 
whose resentment of this form of address she 
had anticipated. 

About this time, the temperance reformation 
became a prominent question, and many of the 
people of York, and Jane Thornton among them, 
were very active in promoting it. She signed 
the pledge, and became a zealous member of the 
first Temperance Society in the ancient city. 
She not only abandoned the use of all intoxicating 
liquor, but, with characteristic thoroughness, she 



resolutely set her face against tobacco, and 
persuaded her father to give up its use. In this, 
as in many other of her actions, she met with 
opposition. When her elder sister found that her 
father had given up smoking at his daughter's 
persuasion, she set it down to parsimony, and, by 
way of practical rebuke to her sister, she bought 
and presented to the old man a large packet of 
tobacco, which, however, he never used. The 
elder sister subsequently became as zealous as 
Jane in her opposition to the use of narcotics. 

It was not until some time after this that 
she joined the Society of Friends. She became 
intimately acquainted with the late Jemima 
Spence, whose spiritual experience had been very 
much like her own, and with whom she formed 
a life-long friendship. This friend suggested to 
her the desirability of joining the Society, and 
she ultimately did so. On the death of her 
father she took the situation of housekeeper at 
the business house of Joseph Spence, in which 
she remained until her removal to Dewsbury, 
about the }^ear 1851, where she became companion 
to an aged invalid. Her connection thus com- 
menced with the Meeting and the town in which 
she was destined to spend nearly half a century. 

Within a year or two of coming to this new 



situation she was united in marriage to Benjamin 
Gill, of Batley Carr. He had been a widower for 
some time, and had one little son. And now, as 
wife and mother new duties claimed her care, to 
the discharge of which she applied the same 
conscientiousness which had ever marked her 
actions. She never relaxed her interest in religion 
nor in the special views which are held by the 
Society of Friends. No domestic or business 
engagements, except the most imperative, were 
ever allowed to interfere with her attendance of 
meetings. This and the daily Bible reading in 
the family, and other religious duties always 
entered into the arrangement of her life's routine. 
She had neither the time nor the inclination to 
mingle much in society. Attention to her 
household and family, and the assistance she 
rendered in her husband's business reduced leisure 
to a minimum. But she often used to say that 
she was never lonely when alone. The words of 
a poem translated from the French which she 
sometimes quoted aptly express her feeling in this 
respect : — 

" When they urge me to mirth, I think Oh, were 
it known 

" How I meet the best company when I'm alone ! " 
In every thing she observed severe simplicity 



and on principle, as well as on account of limited 
means, ever practised the most strict economy. 
She had a horror of debt, and, in her personal 
dealings would never incur it ; or, if that were 
unavoidable, would never rest till she knew it 
was discharged. This was for her a religious 
duty. " Owe no man anything but to love one 
another " was a text she frequently cited. " How 
•can there be any real love," she would say, "when 
persons owe others money which they make little 
or no effort to pay ? " She thought that this 
failing was a source of much injury to the cause 
of Christianity. In her household furniture and 
in her own and her children's attire she always 
set order, cleanliness and decency before orna- 
ment or display. It was her earnest concern 
that eternal things should have the first place. 
She was anxious that her children should 
"possess a well-grounded hope in Christ," and 
she made a point of dealing with them individu- 
ally about this matter. She thus endeavoured, 
towards both her own family and those around 
her, to maintain " a conscience void of offence." 

Jane Gill had a firm belief in the reality of 
Divine guidance in every affair of life. In 
emergency or dilemma she would turn instinc- 
tively to the inward Monitor and feel after the 



needed counsel ; and whether it were in answer- 
ing the appeal of a beggar at the door or in any 
other matter, she ever sought to follow the course 
which she thought was shown to her to be the 
right one. If this involved her in self-denial, 
she did not shrink from it. 

A poor woman had got into B. Gill's debt to a 
considerable amount. She believed her to be a 
worthy person, and felt much sympathy for her 
and her large family ; she wished, therefore, to 
cancel the debt. Her husband, however, de- 
clined to allow this, as he did not feel the same 
confidence in the woman's character, and he also 
felt that the sum was larger than he could suit- 
ably give as charity. Jane Gill, therefore, felt 
that it was only by some personal sacrifice on her 
own part that her purpose could be attained, and 
for a period of seventeen weeks she ate dry 
bread, saving her butter money to discharge the 

Some five or six years before her decease 
she had a serious illness, and her recovery seemed 
extremely doubtful. But, while her friends had 
scarcely any anticipation of her being restored, 
she herself felt sure that her life would be spared. 
She mentioned one day that she had felt parti- 
cularly easy as she lay in bed, both in mind and 



body, at which she wondered until she remem- 
bered the words — " Thou wilt make all his bed 
in his sickness." " So," she said, "I might well 
be easy if the Lord made the bed." When the 
issue of her illness seemed a little doubtful, while 
feeling no fear of death, she yet had a desire to 
remain here a little longer, and, remembering 
how fifteen years were added to the life of King 
Hezekiah when he was "sick unto death," she 
felt a desire that she might be spared for seven 
years. As she thus meditated the conviction 
seemed borne in upon her that this length of 
time would be granted her. So unhesitating was 
her acceptance of this impression that when the 
doctor paid his next visit to what he had thought 
was probably her death-bed, she told him he need 
not call again or send any more medicine, as the 
Great Physician having taken her in hand, she 
was going to get better. Her faith was rewarded 
by a speedy recovery, and it was not till the end 
came that she again had a really serious illness. 

During the last few months of her life her 
memory began to fail, and her sight and hearing 
became very defective. Her patience, as these 
infirmities grew upon her, was very marked. 
When a relation one day expressed sympathy 
with her in her increasing feebleness, she 




exclaimed, " It will not be always so ! " And she 
repeated the hymn : — 

" There is a land of pure delight, 
Where saints immortal reign, 
Infinite day excludes the night, 
And pleasures banish pain." 

As the time of her departure drew near 
patient peacefulness became more and more the 
clothing of her spirit. Though she had, after 
the marriage of her son, always preferred to keep 
a house of her own, she began to feel towards 
the end that she would like to give up house- 
keeping, and arrangements were on foot for 
carrying out this wish, when the summons came 
to the " house not made with hands," and the 
words of one of her favourite hymns were 
fulfilled for her : — 

" Above yon angel powers 
In glorious joy to live \ 
Far from a world of grief and sin, 
With God eternally shut in." 

Francis Gillett, 69 7 llmo. 1896. 


Arthur J. Gilliver, 26 20 3mo. 1897. 

Hichard S. Gilmore, 21 20 9mo. 1897. 

Belfast. Son of William J. and Mary E. 




John Glaisyer, 60 14 2mo. 1897. 

Malton. A Minister. 

John Glaisyer was born at Brighton on the 
6th of Ninth month, 1836. He was educated at 
Benjamin Abbott's school at Hitchin. He settled 
in business at Huddersfield, and in 1870 married 
Mary Jane Ellis (widow of James Austin Ellis), 
a union which proved a source of much happiness. 
After nearly twenty years 7 residence in Hudders- 
field, he removed to York, and fifteen years later 
to Malton, where the last three years of his life 
were spent. He was throughout an active man 
of business, and his consistent Christian life 
influenced many with whom he had but little 
social intercourse. 

At one time he was much engaged in 
municipal and other public duties, but latterly 
he gave his available time and thought mainly to 
the interests of the Society of Friends. He 
early became an earnest worker in the Adult 
School movement. He was a good teacher ; his 
gift of clearly expressing his own broad and 
deep convictions of religious truth was a great 
help to those with whom he met. While still a 
young man he was convinced of total abstinence 
principles by an address of Samuel Bowly's, and 
threw himself heartily into temperance work. 



His ministry in meetings for worship, com- 
menced only in later life, was always acceptable 
to Friends, who could often have wished his 
communications to be longer and more frequent. 
In this, as in other matters, humility was 
characteristically blended with his quiet but firm 
faith. He was acknowledged a minister six 
months before his death. 

The following is an extract from the 
memorial minute read at Pickering and Hull 
Monthly Meeting, held at Scarborough, 21st of 
Fourth month, 1897 :— 

" Wise in counsel and rich in sympathy, 
he endeared himself to those amongst whom he 
moved. His life seemed especially to illustrate 
the ministry of "helps" referred to by the 
Apostle in his enumeration of spiritual gifts. 
His service for his Lord grew and deepened 
with its exercise. We thankfully record the 
great value of our dear friend's life amongst us." 

There was indeed good evidence that though 
the last summons came very suddenly it found 
John Glaisyer watching. He died on the 14th 
of Second month, 1897. 

Margaret Goodall, 68 23 5mo. 1897. 
Leeds. Widow of Matthew Goodall. 



J. B. Clibborn Goodbody, 44 17 5mo. 1897. 

Clara, King's Co. A Minister. 
Henry Goouch, 83 17 7mo. 1897. 

Donnybrook, Dublin. 
Ann Goundry, 81 10 lOmo. 1896. 


Lucinda Graham, 70 30 llmo. 1896. 

Lisburn. Widow of John Graham. 
Stephen Gravely, 82 6 9mo. 1897. 

Ackworth. An Elder. 

Though Stephen Gravely was not widely 
known, yet the ministry of a quiet Christian life 
was so well illustrated by him that we hardly 
like his name to be passed over without a few 
words, which may encourage others who do not 
feel called to conspicuous service for the Master 
whom they love. 

Stephen Gravely was born and spent the 
larger part of his long life in the south of 
England, and mostly in Meetings where there 
was not much vocal ministry ; and thus his 
own inclinations were rather in the direction of 
silence. But in 1894 he removed to Ackworth, 
where the remaining years of his life were spent. 
Here he soon became strongly attracted by the 
life of the School, and took a very warm interest 



in everything which concerned the welfare of the 
children and teachers. In the Meeting, so differ- 
ently constituted from those to which he had been 
accustomed, his loving spirit was earnestly 
concerned to encourage everything which he felt 
to be for the general good, though feeling 
prevented by age from entering actively into new 
interests. He would often say, " If I cannot help 
you, I won't hinder ! " And yet his brief utter- 
ances in the ministry, not frequent but delivered 
with so much seriousness and feeling, his loving 
words of encouragement to those whom he 
believed to be exercising a true gift in the 
ministry, and his kindly Christian courtesy, were 
a help and a lesson to others, far beyond what he 
supposed. Even the village people whom he met 
in his walks were struck by his cheerful face, for 
as one of them remarked, " He always looked so 
happy." And in this way we believe he exercised 
a true ministry for his Master. 

Though his loss of strength had been noticed, 
the end came very unexpectedly to most of his 
friends, who hardly knew he was ill before they 
heard he had gently passed to his rest. 

He was fond of poetry, and had been much 
struck by Tennyson's " Crossing the Bar," which 
he had quoted with interest not long before his 



death ; and in his case the words were very 
appropriate to the close — 

" Twilight and evening bell, 
And after that the dark. 
And may there be no sadness of farewell, 
When I embark." 
Never a man of many words, there were no 
farewell messages ; but his gentle and loving life 
amongst his friends had given his message : — 
" In the fear of the Lord is strong confidence ; 
and His children shall have a place of refuge." 
Cyril M. Gregory, 23 6 llmo. 1896 

Newton Abbott. Son of Alfred and Frances E 

Joseph Groves, 77 15 llmo. 1896 

Ra stride. 

David Hall, 69 5 12mo. 1896 


Thomas W. Hall, 44 19 2mo. 1897 

Waverton, nr.. Wigton. 
Elizabeth Handley, 57 16 3mo. 1897 

Brigflatts, Sedberg. 
Joseph Hickton, 69 8 5mo. 1897 


Maria K. Higginbotham, 62 23 9mo. 1897 

James H. Hodgkinson, 35 23 6mo. 1897 



Jane Hodgson, 82 13 12mo. 1896. 

Cheadle. Widow of John Hodgson. 
John Hodkinson, 72 20 8mo. 1897. 


James Hopper, 68 8 5mo. 1897. 


William Hopper, 84 5 lOmo. 1896. 


Douglas Houlsby, 39 26 lmo. 1897. 

By hope , Sunderland. 
Francis Howitt, 60 29 3mo. 1897. 


Ann Hunt, 86 19 4mo. 1897. 

Bristol. A Minister. 

" The path of the just is as a shining light 
which shineth more and more, unto the perfect 
day." This text in a remarkable way illustrates 
the life of this beloved Friend. The greater part 
of her life was passed in much seclusion ; for 
though always greatly valued by her own near 
circle of friends, it was not until the shadows 
began to lengthen that she was able freely to 
devote her powers to the claims of the Church 
and Society. 

Her earlier years had been from many causes 
those of much conflict and of deep sorrow ; but 
the storm-clouds had become irradiated with 



heavenly light, and it was from the rich stores of 
her own chastened experience that she was 
enabled to give out both counsel and sympathy in 
unstinted measure. 

" With silence only as their benediction 
God's angels come, 
Where in the shadow of a great affliction 
The soul sits dumb." 

Ann Hunt was born on the 21st of Tenth 
month, 1810, and was the daughter of Henry and 
Ann Hunt. 

She was a high-spirited girl, and in playing 
with her brothers sustained an injury to the spine 
which entailed throughout her life considerable 
weakness and suffering. At an early age she 
lost her beloved mother, a loss which was very 
acutely felt, and which involved for her a large 
amount of care over the younger members of the 
family, one of whom had been from childhood 
a hopeless invalid. Thus she became early 
trained in that thoughtfulness for others which, 
in after life, was perfected by Christian love into 
a power of sympathy which enabled her to put 
herself side by side with those who came to her, 
and by that close touch, gave her an entrance to 
their hearts, and also a subtle comprehension of 
character, which when combined with the glow 



of a loving heart is the secret of a wonderful 

The home of Henry Hunt was for many- 
years at the Fort, Bristol. It was a stately home 
belonging to the olden time, with a tower and 
a walled garden and fine old elm trees — a house 
much secluded from public gaze. Here Ann 
Hunt grew up to womanhood, romantic in her 
feelings and full of high aspiration. 

We cannot tell when her heart was first 
given to the Lord's service. She went through 
much spiritual conflict, but early memoranda 
show an intense desire to be wholly dedicated, 
combined with many morbid fears and doubts as 
to her firm foundation on the Rock of Ages. On 
the 22nd of Tenth month, 1826, she writes : — 
" Yesterday was the sixteenth anniversary of my 
birth. I have lived thus long — alas ! with how 
little dedication to the Divine will. Oh ! that I 
may be favoured to feel more living and earnest 
desires after the true riches, after that pearl of 
great price, that living water of which if a man 
drink he shall never die. Grant, Holy Jesus, 
that I may be enabled to feel more and more 
after Thee, to worship Thee in spirit and in truth. 
Oh ! Thou Lamb of God, Thou great and mighty 
One, Thou knowest that the chief desire of my 



sinful and corrupt heart is that it may be cleansed. 
Enable me to become Thine I beseech Thee, 
though it may cost me much. Throw down my 
idols if I have any that stand in the way ; and 
oh ! let Thy devouring fire burn up the chaff." 

It was about this time that her sensitive 
nature sustained a severe blow in the death of a 
young friend of her own age, to whom she had 
become almost passionately attached. This event 
threw for a time a dark shadow over her life, and 
resulted in deepening her resolution to become a 
yet more devoted follower of the Lord Jesus 

A strong impression took possession of her 
soul, that God had called her into a more public 
profession for Him, and that He required the 
service of her lips, as well as of the heart. Her 
sensitive and timid nature shrank from the 
sacrifice in an inexpressible degree, and the 
conflict of her soul lasted through a long series of 

She had an only sister, to whom she was 
most tenderly attached, and whose nature seemed 
complementary to her own. They shared the 
same life and the same interests ; and when in 
1865, this beloved one died, it was a deep and 
abiding sorrow in her heart. The death of her 



sister increased the pressure of home claims, 
which became very absorbing ; but even at that 
time there was forming around her a large circle 
of devoted friends, on whom her influence was 
strong and enduring. 

She had a very fine intellect, and her company 
was bright and fascinating. With a great gift 
of conversational power, she united an unusual 
versatility of interest in passing events, with 
which she always kept herself abreast. There 
was an expansive power in her nature which gave 
her a strong influence over thoughtful and intel- 
ligent minds. Whilst holding evangelical truth 
with a firm grasp, she was open to receive fresh 
light, and thus was able to avoid those stereotyped 
views in which people advancing in life are too 
apt to become set. The questions of the day 
were deeply interesting to her. She hailed the 
revised version of the Bible with warm approval, 
while on the practical side she took great interest 
in First-day Schools and in Home and Foreign 
Missions. She was for some years Superintendent 
of the Girls' First-day School. 

It was not until the year 1873 that the bonds 
were broken which had held her so fast, and her 
mouth was opened in the ministry, first at Cleve- 
don, and afterwards at Torquay, and then from 



time to time in her own meeting ; and help 
"little short of miraculous " was given, in deliver- 
ance from the weakness of the flesh. She writes 
to a friend : — " Spite of all difficulties within and 
without, it seemed as if there were the dear 
Master's call to a little service, and the presence of 
any mortal were as nothing to me. The fear, the 
inexpressible shrinking, was gone. I can but 
mention it to the praise of Him who condescends 
to the very meanest and most feeble of those 
whose desire is to be His, and to do His will." 
From this time, her voice was not unfrequently 
heard ; and her ministry was much valued. 
Though she always retained "a timidity of utter- 
ance," and her words were accompanied with 
deep humility, yet a spiritual power attended 
them which gave a sense of living communion 
with God ; and she was a faithful steward of the 
gift bestowed. 

She was recorded as a minister in the early 
part of 1876. At the end of the year, in reference 
to it, she writes : — " Do Thou graciously carry on 
Thy work as it pleaseth Thee ; suffer nothing to 
mar its progress ; and for us who venture to speak 
in Thy name, be pleased to give more love for 
Christ and communion with Him and fellowship 
one with another ; more life, and power and 



liberty; that if it please Thee there may be an 
awakening out of sleep and a putting on of 
strength in Thy name, to the blessing of our little 
Church and exaltation of Thy glorious name, 
through and with the blessed Saviour." 

Her public service was chiefly confined to 
her own Quarterly Meeting. In conjunction with 
her dear friend Joseph Storrs Fry, she paid a 
series of family visits in the years 1884 and 1885, 
in which nearly every household in the compass 
of Bristol and Somerset Quarterly Meeting were 
included. It was striking to observe with 
what interest and discrimination she entered into 
sympathy with persons in varied circumstances, 
and how appropriately the message was delivered 
with delicacy and tact. Her habitual diffidence 
and humility were remarkably combined with 
christian courage in speaking the word in season, 
as occasion called for it. It was an arduous 
service, but was attended with much blessing. 

In the year 1874, after the death of her 
step-mother, E. H. Hunt, she left the Fort, and 
removed to a house in Brunswick Square. It 
was chosen as being near the meeting house, and 
her home became a centre for some of the 
christian work which was going on in connec- 
tion with "The Friars "; and many a gathering 



was held there, which had for its object aid to 
the young, and the advancement of the spiritual 
life of the Church. 

In the year 1888, Ann Hunt underwent an 
operation for cataract, which was successfully 
performed ; and great was her joy and thankful- 
ness at this renewal of her bodily powers, and her 
desire was great that these should be wholly 
given to her Lord. At the close of the year she 
writes : — "I am alone this evening, remembering 
the way by which I have been led these almost 
double forty years in the wilderness, as through 
fire and through water. Yet I have been brought 
even to this hour. My heart is bowed down 
within me, and may thankfulness and praise be 
the covering of my spirit through all the days 
that are to run." 

Throughout her life she had had a charm for 
children. The young of all ages were drawn 
towards her, and now in this time of weakened 
sight, a band of young Friends devoted a little 
time every week to come and read to her. This 
intercourse proved so mutually delightful that 
sometimes when the hour was past, the book had 
hardly been opened. Many look back on these 
visits as times of real help and blessing. 

It would be difficult to exaggerate the 



brightness of her life at this period. " At 
evening time there shall be light." The shadows 
of former days had fled away. She was sur- 
rounded by dear relations and devoted friends. 
Old and young, rich and poor, flocked to her, sure 
of finding help, or counsel, or sympathy, all 
attracted by her sweetness, and many eager to 
share the rich intelligence of her cultivated 

The illness which terminated the life of our 
dear friend began with an attack of influenza 
in the early part of 1895. The doctor thought 
that at her advanced age there was little hope of 
her recovery ; but with her strong constitution 
and the great care taken, she began to improve, 
and at the time of Yearly Meeting she accepted 
the warm invitation of her friend Joseph Storrs 
Fry to try the benefit of change at his house on 
the beautiful Downs. She was able to enjoy 
many drives in the neighbourhood, and the fine 
air did her good ; but she did not regain her 
strength. In the following Tenth month she had 
a strong accession of illness from bronchitis, and 
was obliged to take to her bed, and was never 
afterwards dressed. 

During this long breaking down of the 
earthly tabernacle there was throughout great 



weakness of body, so that it was with almost 
startling contrast that her spirit shone out so full 
of strength, and the power of taking unabated 
interest in all that concerned the welfare of her 
friends. Their visits formed the great pleasure 
of her life. Her heart was always open to them 7 
and many can acknowledge that they came to her 
bedside often with downcast hearts, and left it 
with fresh courage for the struggle of life. 
" Sweet promptings unto kindest deeds 

Were in her very look ; 
We read her face, as one who reads 

A true and holy book. 
The measure of a blessed hymn, 

To which our hearts could move ; 
The breathing of an inward psalm, 

A canticle of love. 
The advancement of the Kedeemer's king- 
dom held the foremost place on her heart, and all 
that concerned the well-being of Friends as a 
religious Society was especially dear. Nothing 
gave her greater joy than to hear of young 
li ves dedicated to God's service ; while her interest 
was keenly awakened on behalf of oppressed and 
suffering humanity. She liked to hear the daily 
papers read to her, with the speeches of eminent 
men ; and none of all the leading events of the 
day were passed by as unimportant or uninter- 



No less striking was the sweetness of her 
temper through all her wearying illness. Those 
around were cheered not only by her smiles, but 
by the playful sallies which so often lightened 
the tedium of the hours of watching. She had 
the gift, not only of rendering sympathy, but 
of receiving it also. The constant little attentions 
paid her, and the lovely flowers brought to her 
bedside gave her intense pleasure, and she was 
always ready to express the gratitude she felt to 
her friends, and to the great Giver of all her 

It was during an acute attack in Twelfth 
month, when she nearly passed away, that she 
received an impression that her life would be 
prolonged a little while ; and so it proved. It 
became however increasingly difficult to her to 
converse, although with sweet smiles she wel- 
comed all who came ; and it was evident that her 
words had the sacred character of last messages. 
To two very old friends who came from a dis- 
tance to see her within a fortnight of her death, 
she said, " Yes, it gets brighter and brighter, 
instead of duller and duller. All is clear, more 
than ever. Sometimes I have such beautiful 
thoughts, many things come into my mind as I 
lie here." Then she continued, " All have a 



service ; we must not think because we are laid 
by there is nothing for us to do." She was 
reminded, " They also serve, who only stand and 
wait " ; to which she replied, " He filleth the 
waiting soul with goodness." 

One day soon after, she said she felt as if 
there was scarcely any physical strength left in 
her, and when the remark was made — " But the 
spiritual remains," she replied, "Yes, the one is 
renewed, the other not." She asked that the text 
from u Daily Light " might be read over again. 
It was from Ephesians, — " God who is rich in 
mercy, for His great love wherewith He loved 
us, hath raised us up together and made us sit 
together in heavenly places in Christ Jesus. Her 
kind watcher remarked, " That is yours is it not ?" 
Her reply was, " I don't like to say too much 
about things. I often think whilst we think we 
are glorifying Christ we are in reality glorifying 
ourselves. There is great danger. Self is very 

Once she said, " I feel peaceful ; I never 
had anything to trust to but God's mercy in 
Christ, and that I trust to now. I feel He has 
taken me to be His own." Her heart seemed full 
of messages to her friends. To one she quoted 
the text—" I know whom I have believed, and 



He is able . . . " At the end of another, " He 
loved me and gave Himself for me." When 
almost wandering — " It is time for Jesus to 
come." " You would like to go to Him? " " I 
have gone to Him already " ; thus uttering the 
deep experience of many years. On the follow- 
ing day, the 19th of Fourth month, her first 
thought in the morning seemed to be for an 
absent friend ; her message ended with the verse 
of Baxter's hymn — 

' ' My knowledge of that life is small, 
The eye of faith is dim ; 
But 'tis enough that Christ knows all, 
And I shall be with Him." 
Through utterance failing she was not able to 
complete the lines. 

Great restlessness and pain throughout the 
day were borne with unfailing patience, but she 
was conscious throughout. Once she said, " I 
shall soon be gone"; her friend said, "You 
remember the Ministry and Oversight Meeting is 
to-night ! " " Yes ! " 

At length, in the gloaming, the sanctified 
spirit was gently released from the shadows of 
earth to the light of an endless day. 

" And there shall be no night there ; and they 
need no candle, neither light of the sun, for the 



Lord God giveth them light, and they shall reign 
for ever and ever.'' 

" There is the throne of David ; 

And there from care released, 
The shout of them that triumph, 

The song of them that feast. 
And they who with their Leader 

Have conquered in the fight, 
For ever and for ever 

Are clad in robes of white." 

John B. Hutchinson, 69 5 8mo. 1897. 

Lucy Hutchinson, 63 7 12mo. 1896. 

Bubvrith. Wife of William Hutchinson. 
Agatha S. Jackson, 64 3 8mo. 1897. 

Old Tr afford. Wife of William Jackson. 
Anne Jackson, 79 28 2mo. 1897. 


John Jackson, 52 22 lmo. 1897. 


Thomas Jackson, 78 7 2mo. 1897. 

Stoke Nevrington. 
Starbuck L. James, 22 15 7mo. 1897. 

Truro. Son of Silvanus and Eliza James. 
Mary Jerdison, 73 17 lmo. 1897. 

Bishopwearmouth. Widow of William Jerdison. 
Thomas B. John, 39 16 2mo. 1897. 




Arthur Johnson, 50 15 2mo. 1897. 

Stoke Newington. 
Benjamin Johnson, 79 3 4mo. 1897. 


Elizabeth P. Johnson, 64 29 8mo. 1897. 

Barking. Wife of Philip Johnson. 
Martha Johnson, — 28 9mo. 1897. 


Mary Jones, 71 4 lmo. 1897. 

Leeds. Wife of Joseph Jones. 
Joseph Kelsall, 77 25 6mo. 1897. 

Wyresdale. An Elder. 
Elizabeth Kerr, 14mo29 lmo. 1897. 

Bessbroolc. Daughter of Thomas and Sarah 


Sarah Kerr, 64 3 3mo. 1897. 

Grange, Co. 'Tyrone. Widow of James Kerr. 
.Richard Kidd, 85 5 2mo. 1897. 


MaryKincey, 72 11 2mo. 1897. 


Ann Lovell King 79 11 6mo. 1897. 


Robert W. King, 27 23 6mo. 1897. 

Eccles. Son of William and Ann F. King. 
Susan L. Knight, 76 12 9mo. 1897. 

Weston-super-Mare. Widow of Alfred Knight. 



Christopher Knowles, 74 17 12mo. 1896. 

Bentham. A Minister. 
Hannah Lamb, 67 7 2mo. 1897. 

Sibford. Wife of Richard H. Lamb. 
Samuel Lawrence, 84 13 3mo. 1897. 


Annie Lawton, 38 1 4mo. 1897. 

New castle-on- Tyne. Wife of John Lawton. 
John Lawton, 80 20 4mo. 1897. 


Susanna Leoky, 59 22 lOmo. 1896. 

Notting Hill. 
Ann Leigh, 73 12 6mo. 1897. 

Westhoughton. Widow of John Leigh. 
Ann K. Lury, 81 13 3mo. 1897. 

Clevedon. Widow of Samuel H. Lury. 

Ann K. Lury was the eldest daughter of 
Robert and Jane Eaton of Swansea, and her 
childhood's home was a very happy one, her 
bright, loving, unselfish spirit made her beloved 
by all with whom she came in contact. When 
through no fault of his, her father's bank had to 
be closed soon after she left school, she worked 
indefatigably in picking and sending fruit to the 
market, making cheese for sale, and training her 
young brothers and sisters to work, trying ito find 
out what each was best suited for. In this way 



they were able to keep their beautiful home until 
the bank was re-opened with no loss to anyone 
but themselves : and may we not say that this 
early trial and training brought forth rich fruit in 
after days. 

In the autumn of 1838 she was married to 
Samuel Harford Lury, of Bristol, and at first the 
restraints of city life were trying to one who was 
used to riding over the moors and hills near her 

In 1840 a son was born, and about the same 
time her mother died, and a few weeks after her 
father, bringing thought and care and suffering 
upon her when not quite twenty-four, which were 
unmurmuringly and patiently borne. 

At this time she was rarely willing to speak 
of her spiritual experience ; but as years went on, 
all around her noticed a change in this respect, 
and her testimony to her Saviour's love to her, 
and his power to save from sin was clear and 

In 1858, after a sojourn of six years in 
Tottenham, all her husband's property was lost 
owing to the unprincipled conduct of an agent, 
and he took his family to reside for a while in 
the South of France to try and recover as much 
as he could. With a face unshadowed by this 



trial, she dismissed her servants with the excep- 
tion of one who would not leave her, and did her 
best to teach and do everything for the four child- 
ren who went with them. This was a time never to 
be forgotten, and the example of both parents in 
many difficulties, always u seeking first the King- 
dom of God and His righteousness," did much to 
mould the characters of their children. 

In 1859 a move was made to Saffron Walden, 
where for sixteen years she led a busy life of 
ministry to others. 

After returning to Bristol for fourteen years, 
they remos 7 ed to Clevedon, and the last six years 
were very happy ones. She was weak and ill 
when her beloved husband was taken to his 
heavenly home after an illness of two days, 
and she was then in daily expectation of 
following him ; but to the surprise of all she 
rallied, and though never again able to leave 
her bed, she lived — waiting her Lord's time as 
she said — for four years and a half. An 
expression often on her lips, if her daughters 
were called away, was " Don't trouble about me." 

She passed peacefully away after a week'^ 
illness, three of her children being with her. 
Just before the end she said, " I have nothing to 
wait for, I know whom I have believed." She 




sent a message of love and blessing to her eldest 
daughter who was not able to return from 
America in time to see her again. When realiz- 
ing this she said, " God knows best." 
Sarah E. Malcomson, 30 29 5mo. 1897. 

Belfast. Daughter of James and Sarabella 


Lucy A.Marfleet, 41 6 llmo. 1896. 
JBassingham, Lincoln. Wife of Edward H. 

Alfred Marriage, 81 25 5mo. 1897. 

James B. Marriage, 73 25 4mo. 1897. 

Monkwear mouth. 
Jane Martin, 90 3 3mo. 1897. 

Wellington, Somerset. 
Sophia May, 67 7 9mo. 1897. 


Sophia May was the fourth daughter of 
Edward Curtis and Caroline May of Tottenham. 
Although there is nothing very striking to record 
in her uneventful life, we believe there are many 
in the circle of those who knew and loved her, 
who will be interested in gathering up a few 
reminiscences of one whose faithfulness in friend- 
ship, and whose loving interest in all that 
concerned the welfare of others, were so marked. 



During the few years of her school life at Lewes 
she formed several friendships, and her warm 
heart clung to these school friends as long as she 
lived ; whilst, like many others of that happy 
band, she ever retained a thankful sense of the 
high tone of the school, under the excellent 
superintendence of the three saintly sisters, M., 
M., and J. S. Dymond, who have long since gone 
to their heavenly home. Her unfailing bright- 
ness and lively manners made her a general 
favourite with the girls, whilst her strict con- 
scientiousness in carrying out her duties gained 
her the love and respect of her teachers. 

Although not so gifted as her sister Anna 
M. Ashby (see " Annual Monitor, " 1887), she 
was always fond of reading and intellectual 
pursuits, with an intelligent appreciation of 
standard authors ; and she often regretted the 
large amount of indiscriminate novel reading in 
the present day, and especially the lowering 
character of the unrefined, sensational stories now 
so common. Yet she could enjoy a high-toned 
clever work of fiction, whilst giving the first 
place to more solid reading. 

S. May was an excellent German scholar, 
and her fluency in speaking this language 
increased her warm interest in the German 



Fatherland. Her tastes were always refined, and 
she delighted in the beautiful, whether in Nature 
or in Art. Although never writing much poetry, 
there was a poetical vein which found occasional 
expression, and her love of nature w r as intense. 
The following lines, written after a visit to the 
Channel Islands in 1859, are an index to her 
feelings on these points ; and she thoroughly 
enjoyed travelling and the study of character in 
her own and other lands : — 

For the vast beauty of the heaving sea, 
Which fills my soul like powerful harmony, 
Which teaches us of Thy infinity, 

I thank Thee, oh my God ! 

For the sweet tenderness of gentle flowers, 
Hid by the shaded brook 'mid bowery ferns, 
Looking that peace for which the spirit yearns, 
I thank Thee, oh my God ! 

For the deep music of the mighty rocks, 
Rising above all littleness toward Thee, 
Untroubled by the ever chafing sea, 

I thank Thee, oh my God ! 

Would I could thank Thee better! mighty rock, 
Infinite sea, meek fern and floweret 
Praise Thee without this yearning and regret, 
Which mars the song that rises unto Thee. 
Lean my weak soul, oh Mighty One, on Thee, 
Teach me Thy praise, oh God. 

S. May's sympathy with sorrow and suffer- 
ing was boundless ; she sought out hidden cases, 



and by kind acts and loving letters was able to 
pour in the oil of consolation and help. She 
was specially interested in the poor Bosnians, to 
whom she devoted much time, in collecting sub- 
scriptions, in sending, with the help of many 
others, parcels of clothing, and to the end of her 
life, in helping to maintain the school for girls. 
The Home of Rest at Buckhurst Hill, for young 
women engaged in business, under the care of 
the Misses Reynolds, was also an object of much 
interest to her, and she frequently obtained for 
it practical help by her notices of it in the 
" Friend " and the u Christian." 

Naturally generous and enthusiastic, she 
threw her whole energies into whatever she 
undertook, and thus inspirited those around her. 
Her sympathy extended to all living things, and 
she did not like to see the smallest creature 
suffer, interesting herself in the societies formed 
for the protection of children and animals ; and, 
like her honoured father, she had an extreme 
aversion to vivisection. 

She hailed with delight efforts in the cause 
of peace, believing all war to be contrary to the 
teaching of Jesus Christ ; and she was for 
several years secretary to the Tottenham branch 
of the British and Foreign Bible Society. 



S. May keenly felt the death of her beloved 
mother, who passed away in 1885 (see "Annual 
Monitor " for 1887), and to whose declining 
years she had tenderly ministered, as the only 
home-daughter. This event caused the break-up 
of the happy home in Bruce Grove, and she 
never again had a settled residence. Notwith- 
standing that she had many kind relations and 
friends, the sense of loneliness was at times 
almost overpowering to her clinging, sensitive 
nature ; but it gave her a power of sympathy 
with other lonely ones that nothing else could 
have given. 

After spending six months with a dear 
sister and nieces at Bournemouth, in delicate 
health, she moved to Ipswich in the 7th month, 
1897, hoping the change would be beneficial ; 
and in the comfortable home of her sister, 
E. Sims, she spent the last two months of suffer- 
ing and weariness, longing to go to that Heavenly 
home which she had long felt so near to her. 

Her religion was simple, earnest, and broad 
in the best sense. She loved to unite with 
almost all sections of the Christian Church, not 
caring for theology and doctrinal controversies, 
but maintaining a firm faith in the Fatherhood 
of God, and in Jesus as a personal Saviour and 


Friend. To her, prayer was a blessed reality, a 
constant help and comfort. She held commun- 
ion with God through Christ, and when the end 
came it found her fully ready, waiting for the 
call up higher. 

Her favourite text book was the "Threefold 
Cord," published by the Religions Tract Society, 
and she sometimes said that the daily precept, 
promise, and prayer it contains afforded her more 
spiritual food than many a longer portion of 

In her last letter to a life-long friend she 
wrote, " Pray for me, dearest — that I may not 
murmur. During the last three months I have 
cast many longing looks towards that Home 
where there shall be no more pain." Shortness 
of breathing and tendency to faintness prevented 
much conversation. She liked to be very quiet ; 
and one who lovingly watched over her during 
the last days of her life writes: — " She has shown 
wonderful patience, gentleness and consideration 
for others during her illness." On the last 
Sabbath, the sister who was sitting with her 
noticed that the weary suffering look was 
exchanged for a time for a brighter, restful one ; 
and she not only enjoyed hearing, but prompted 
her sister, C. Mounsey, in repeating the 46th 



Psalm. She remarked to her devoted nurse also 
that day, " The great Physician will soon come.' 7 
And so trusting in Him, she was peacefully 
brought unto her desired haven. 
Jane Meade, 78 2 8mo. 1897. 

Newbridge, Co. Kildare. An Elder. Widow 

of Thomas W. Meade. 
Mary McConnell, 29 19 4mo. 1897. 

Crosshill, Glasgow. Wife of James McConnell. 
John W. McEwen, 38 1 4mo. 1897. 

South Shields. 
Nathanael Miles, 72 1 3mo. 1897. 


Ruth Mills, 69 13 3mo. 1897. 

Quernmore, Lancaster. 
Susan Mitten, 50 28 5mo. 1897. 


Maria Monument, 80 31 3mo. 1897. 

Hunstanton. Wife of Henry Monument. 
Jane Mothersdale, 38 12 12mo. 1896. 

Bishopwear mouth . 
Sarah C. Muggeridge, 68 12 12mo. 1896. 

Pulborough. A Minister. Widow of Benjamin 


It is an agreeable duty to record the faith of 
those whose vocation it is to till the ground, 
a class to which many Friends belonged in the 



early days of the Society, but which is now 
represented by very few. 

Benjamin and Sarah Muggeridge, members 
of the Church of England, occupied a farm 
near Warriham in Surrey. As time went on 
doubts arose in their minds regarding the 
scriptural authority of infant baptism, and the 
vows made by god-parents. By means of a 
singular incident these doubts were confirmed, 
and were extended to other practices of the 
Church of England. Sarah Muggeridge was 
acquainted with a poor woman to whom a Friend 
had lent George Fox's Journal. The woman 
asked her to take the book back to the Friend, 
saying at the same time : " When I change my 
religion I shall turn Quaker." S. Muggeridge 
sharply replied : " When you do that, mind, T have 
done with you." On which the woman exclaimed : 
u I am surprised to hear you say that, Mrs. 
Muggeridge, for you are just like them." 

S. Muggeridge returned to her house in some 
ill-humour at being told she resembled the 
Quakers, a community whom she despised, 
although she was entirely ignorant of their tenets. 
She thrust the book into the cupboard, out of 
sight, till she should have an opportunity of 
giving it back. But the woman's words had 



fastened on her mind, and curiosity to know 
in what respect she was like the despised Quakers 
overcame her repugnance. She took down the 
book and began to read, but impatience with 
what she found soon caused her to return it to its 
place, only however to take it down again and 
again until she became deeply interested, and 
brought it under the notice of her husband. The 
doubts which had perplexed their minds were 
solved, and many other observances in which they 
had been educated were set in their true light. 
Amongst these was the authority by which 
ministers of Christ claim tithes, a law of the 
Old Testament which has no place whatever in 
the gospel dispensation. Beading one; day in the 
Journal, she came upon this point, and running 
out to her husband, who was at work in the barn ? 
she told him what she had found. 

The truth contained in George Fox's Journal 
wrought with as much power in B. Muggeridge's 
heart as in that of his wife. He had been in the 
habit of smoking during the winter evenings. 
Now, the desire to become acquainted with the 
book which had fallen into their hands exceeded 
the enjoyment of his pipe, which he laid 
aside never to be resumed. It was not long 
before they sought out the Friends, and began to 



attend the little meeting at Cape], six miles 
distant from the farm. The meetings were 
frequently held in silence, but those who 
assembled there were often favoured to partake 
together of the Bread of Life. 

In 1866 B. and S. Muggeridge were admitted 
members of the Society of Friends. The clergy- 
man of the parish was grieved in this way to 
lose members of his congregation, and when two 
of their infant children in succession were taken 
away by death, he told them it was a judgment 
from the Lord for their error. Sarah Muggeridge 
was at first greatly distressed with this reproach, 
but was comforted and reassured by a letter 
from an aged Friend who was drawn into 
sympathy with her, and she spoke afterwards of 
the "powerful arm which upheld me when 
censured by those to whom I had looked up for 
guidance, and strengthened me to bear with 
patience the trials which I had to encounter." 

S. Muggeridge soon found that she could not 
keep for herself alone the pearl of great price of 
which she had become possessed, and was often 
engaged in preaching the gospel in the little 
meeting to which she belonged. For some years 
also she held a religious meeting in the farm 
kitchen, which was attended by a number of her 



neighbours. In 1879 she was recorded as a 

In 1881 they removed to a farm near 
Pulborough in Sussex. 

A strong feature in S. Muggeridge's char- 
acter was the fearless manner in which she 
defended the oppressed. Several instances 
of this kind are related. In the following 
case she stood forth as champion of her 
own rights as well as of those of her neigh- 

The part of Sussex into which the family 
had removed was a hunting country, and it was 
understood between landlord and tenant that the 
foxes should not be meddled with, but that all 
losses in poultry sustained by their depredations 
should be refunded. The tenants in this case 
seem to have observed their part of the compact, 
but the compensation was not forthcoming. The 
Muggeridges raised poultry of the choicest kind, 
so much so that on several occasions their fowls 
found their way to the Queen's table. One 
night the foxes got into their poultry yard and 
killed thirty-one fowls, the mangled remains of 
which were found lying in all directions. To 
prevent a recurrence of such slaughter the fowls 
were shut up at night ; but the cunning poachers 



were not thus to be baulked of their supper ; they 
took to daylight marauding. 

Our Friends had a daughter who was half 
blind, and who had brought up a brood of twelve 
chickens. Just as these were ready for market 
a fox discovered them and carried off ten out of 
the twelve. Benjamin Muggeridge was a man. 
of a retiring and patient spirit ; but this was 
more than he could bear. He said to his wife : — 
" Rather than fall out with our landlord and 
the 'Hunt' I have hitherto borne my losses,, 
but to think that dear child has groped her way 
about for months to feed and care for those 
fowls, and now her labour is all lost, is more than 
I can stand. Have the foxes destroyed/' His 
wife rejoiced to hear this, for she had already 
made up her mind, and was only waiting for the 
word of command from her husband. Before 
going to work, however, she gave repeated notice 
of her purpose to the secretary of the " Hunt 
Poultry Fund." No attention was paid to the 
warning, it being considered impossible that any 
tenant would venture to do so monstrous a deed 
as to kill a fox. But as S. Muggeridge said : — 
" I had worked too hard in order to find money 
for our exorbitant rent to care for or fear any 



So a fox was killed, much to the satisfaction 
of the neighbours. 

Reynard's disappearance on this occa- 
sion does not seem to have attracted much 
attention. As the nightly poaching still went 
on, it was necessary again to set the trap. The 
day on which this was done both the Friends 
were absent, the husband at his market town on 
business, and the wife at their Quarterly Meeting, 
many miles distant. It was with a divided mind 
that she left home, for the first " Meet" of the 
season in that part of the country was to take 
jplace that day. 

In the meeting for worship which preceded 
the Quarterly Meeting, a minister, in his discourse 
alluded to George Fox, and the courageous and 
noble manner in which he defended the rights of 
men in the presence of overbearing magistrates. 
The example seemed to Sarah Muggeridge to be 
exactly applicable to herself ; and instead of 
remaining away for a night as usual, she returned 
home, prepared to defend herself and her neigh- 
bours if need should be. 

She found that a fox had indeed been trapped, 
and that her servant had made what he called an 
exhibition. He had skinned the animal, nailed 
the carcase to the barn door, and hung up the 



skin on the top of a pole. The hounds seem to* 
have come upon the scent of this very fox, and 
the " Field," containing amongst others, several 
noblemen or titled squires, one of whom was the- 
Muggeridge's landlord, came down right on the* 
farm. When they saw the skin, they cried out : — 
" Why that's the very fox we have been looking 
for all day." They were in a towering rage, and 
two of our Friends' sons, mere boys, who had 
been enjoying the exhibition, came in for a plenti- 
ful share of abuse. The landlord left word that 
he would be out with a shooting party next day y 
and would call at the farm to take lunch. It is 
the custom of landlords in that part of England,, 
when out hunting or shooting, to make use, in 
this way, of their tenants' houses, taking their 
provisions with them. His visit was preceded 
by a call, at 9 in the morning, from the Secretary 
to the Poultry Fund. This official, who reckoned 
upon easily frightening Sarah Muggeridge, was- 
not a little disconcerted when she told him that 
she would have every fox destroyed that could 
be got at, for she had lost all confidence in 
the honour of foxhunters. So he changed his- 
tone and said: "Will you take £100, and 
promise us not to kill any more foxes ? " She 
replied: "Certainly not; I don't want your 



money ; but if thou hast £100 to dispose of, 
go and pay my neighbours around who have 
•suffered in the same way, and if after that there is 
anything left, come and pay me." He answered : 
We don't care about your neighbours." "No," 
she replied, " but I do." " Then you won't give 
'US a written promise not to destroy foxes ? " 
She answered, " No," and was going on, when he 
interrupted her with, "You have given us pretty 
good reason to know that you mean what you 
say " ; and without more words he left the 

Not long afterwards came the landlord with 
Ms son and two other gentlemen. Whilst brush- 
ing off the mud from their boots at the front 
•door, the son said in a sarcastic tone : — " How are 
the foxes getting on Mrs. Muggeridge ? " She 
replied: "Two of them are quiet enough, I am 
happy to say." On which the squire broke in : — 
"Come, come that's too bad; you haven't had 
two destroyed surely." She quietly answered : — 
u The truth may be unpalatable, but I have had 
two destroyed." The son then cried out : — " The 
blood of the foxes be on your head, Mrs. 
Muggeridge ! " " The blood of foxes will wash 
off," she replied, "but acts of injustice are not so 
^easily got rid of." " Did your husband," he 



retorted, " come down here with his eyes shut * 
didn't he know it was a fox-preserving country ? 
She answered : " Certainly he did not come here 
with his eyes shut ; but in taking the farm he 
supposed he had to do with honourable men who 
would not let him be the loser by their sport." 

As soon as lunch was over, the squire dis- 
missed his son and his companions to go on with 
their sport, and sent for S. Muggeridge. The 
interview was stormy ; the squire talked long 
and passionately, insisting on the intolerable 
annoyance it was to himself and the other 
gentlemen of the Hunt to have their sport thus 
marred. " You ought," he said, " to be willing 
to promote our sport." " Never," says she,. 
" shall I forget the calm which was over my 
spirit as he poured out his feelings. When he- 
had finished, I bade him remember that we 
were working hard to pay him a high rent for a 
poor farm, and expressed my surprise that the 
man to whom we had looked up for all that was 
right and just could stand by and suffer such op- 
pression. I told him also that I could not under- 
stand how he and others who held the position of 
magistrate, could sentence to three months' 
imprisonment a poor man who took a fowl to* 
satisfy the cravings of hunger, whilst the object 



of their sport was allowed to rob their neighbours' 
farmyards with impunity, and they were un- 
willing to make any compensation." On hearing 
this appeal, tears came into the gentleman's eyes 
and he said : " I often say things which, half-an- 
hour afterwards, I am sorry for. You shall be 
paid Mrs. Muggeridge, I'll see you are paid." 
Then giving her his hand he said, " We will part 
good friends ; we will part good friends, I say ; 
and don't think me hard." 

" That night" (we quote S.M.'s own words) 
u the keeper was sent with two brace of phea- 
sants, with the squire's compliments, and a day 
or two afterwards came a cheque for our account. 
They paid us and our neighbours in full, and 
have paid in full ever since. From that time 
till his death the squire and we were the best of 
friends ; and whenever during his illness he sent 
•us a present, he always wrote the labels for the 
birds with his own hand." To this it may be 
added that when a severe domestic affliction befell 
the squire, Sarah Muggeridge was the means of 
•administering comfort to him and his lady, as 
well as afterwards to himself on his death-bed. 

It was not so much to the wants of a con- 
gregation, as in privately ministering to the poor, 
the sick and the sinful, that Sarah Muggeridge's 



gift was exercised. A poor woman who, during 
the time of health, had manifested but little 
regard for religion, was stricken with fever. 
Through S. Muggeridge's visits she became 
earnestly desirous to know her sins forgiven, 
and she found a loving Father's mercy was 
awaiting her acceptance. As death drew near 
she said to her daughter : " Ann, carry me a 
little further to where the little children are : " 
signifying that, being a babe in Christ, her place 
would be with the little children. She passed 
peacefully away with her hand clasped in S.M.'s. 

Sarah Muggeridge was much interested in 
an aged couple who could not read nor write, to 
whom she frequently read and expounded the 
Scriptures. A neighbour one day meeting the 
old woman, spoke to her of her friend. " She is 
a good woman," she said, " but her religion is 
not right, you know." To which the other 
answered : " Pray can you tell me where she is 
wrong ? She reads out of the same book as you 
do, and speaks of the same God." No attempt 
was made to answer the question. 

One day when occupied with the duties of 
the house, Sarah Muggeridge felt it laid upon 
her to go at once to the house of a woman 
Friend about two miles distant. On her arrival 



she found the husband in great distress on 
account of his wife. She had locked herself in 
her room, and would not admit anyone. He 
asked S.M. to go upstairs to her. On knocking 
for admission a voice answered, " Who is there ? n 
and when she heard the name, the poor woman 
opened the door. She had sunk into a dejected 
state of mind and had been sorely tempted to 
destroy herself, so much so that she had three 
times gone to the pond intending to throw herself 
in, but each time had been restrained. Her 
friend's sympathy and counsel were the means 
of imparting fresh strength to her, so that the 
temptation never returned. 

In 1889 S. Muggeridge was called upon to 
part with her beloved husband. His consistent 
character, rather than his words, bore witness for 
the Master whose service he loved. Words 
were not wanting, however, when the occasion 
required it. Being summoned on a jury, and 
the New Testament handed to him to swear 
upon, he quietly refused to take it, saying :— 
"That book commands me not to sw T ear." 
Although this happened many years ago, the 
judge respected his scruples, and excused him 
from serving. 

In 1893 Sarah Muggeridge was laid by with 



a serious illness, from which she only partially 
recovered, remaining an invalid till her death. 
Although no longer able to pursue her former 
active life, her energetic spirit survived, and her 
invalid's chair was the centre of the busy home. 
In Tenth month, 1896, she became more ill, and 
had to endure a season of severe suffering until 
death came to her release. Throughout this 
period of trial she was kept in perfect peace, 
speaking often of the goodness and mercy of 
God, and exhorting those about her to place 
their unreserved trust and confidence in Him. 
When the pain was most acute she was often 
heard to say: "If ye would reign with Me, ye 
must also suffer with Me"; and "Thy will be 
done," a motto which she desired might be placed 
on her memorial card. 

During the last two days her spirit was in 
Heaven rather' than on earth, and she spoke to 
her daughters, who watched beside her, of bright 
visions she had seen. On the last night she 
prayed : " Oh Lord, cut short the work of suffer- 
ing, if in accordance with Thy will," and added 
" In Thy presence is fulness of joy." 

Eliza Mussen, 82 31 3mo. 1897. 

Omagh. Widow of Thomas Mussen. 



John Nainby, 79 6 3mo. 1897. 

Martha Naunton, 75 3 2mo. 1897. 

StoJce Newington. 

Mary Neave, 87 29 12mo. 1896. 

Ipswich. Widow of Samuel Neave. 

Isabella Nellist, 67 5 9mo. 1897. 

Horbury. Widow of John Nellist. 

Charles Nelson, 64 5 2mo. 1897. 

Chivying Sodbury. 

Ann Noble, 86 17 7mo. 1897. 

Beading. Widow of William Noble. 

Sarah Ord, 78 19 9mo. 1897. 

Clifton, Bristol. 

George Palmer, 79 19 8mo. 1897. 


Ann Parkhurst, 76 9 4mo. 1897. 

Horsham. Widow of Hemy Parkhurst. 

John Payne, 72 5 6mo. 1897. 


George W. Pearman, 57 23 12mo. 1896. 


Henry Fell Pease, 58 6 12mo. 1896. 


Bernard C. Penney, 6 29 9mo. 1897. 
Melksham. Son of Norman and Mary Alice 



James D. Penrose, 68 24 9mo. 1897. 

Margaret M. Penrose, 72 9 4mo. 1897. 


Isaac Perry, 78 25 12mo. 1896. 


John G. Perry, 60 2 5mo. 1897. 


Edgar Pickard, 35 27 3mo. 1897. 


Michael Pickard, 73 2 lOmo. 1897. 

Lake Bank, near Hawheshead. 

Simeon Pontefract, 70 19 7mo. 1897. 

Weaste, Manchester. 
Hannah C. Poole, 70 1 7mo. 1897. 

Ballybeg, Ferns. Widow of Jacob Poole. 

Kichard F. Potter, 20 6 4mo. 1897. 
M'mster Lovell, Son of Richard and Frances 
Ann Potter. 

Richard Powell, 98 17 12mo. 1896. 

Grange, Co. Tyrone. 

Moses Pullen, 77 27 12mo. 1896. 

Fixby, BrigJiouse. 

Adolphus Quertier, 47 10 12mo. 1896. 




Sarah E. Ramsey, 26 29 6mo. 1897. 
Grange, Co. Tyrone. Daughter of Thomas 

Harriett Reckitt, 77 2 lmo. 1897. 

Eliza Reynolds, 84 25 8mo. 1897. 

Canterbury. Widow of Edmund Reynolds. 
Harold C. Reynolds, 24 4 8mo. 1897. 

Yokohama. Son of Fanny and the late Arthur 

Reynolds of Bridport. 
John F. Richardson, 31 22 5mo. 1897. 

Overstone, near Northampton. Son of Henry 

and Emma Richardson. 
Jane Ann Robinson, 37 10 lOmo. 1896. 

Thirsk. Wife of William B. Robinson. 
Martin Robinson, 83 30 4mo. 1897. 

Saddlescombe, near Brighton. An Elder. 
Thomas Robson, 59 15 8mo. 1897. 

Huddersfield. A Minister. 
John Rorke, 72 22 4mo. 1897. 


Lydia Rous, 77 15 12mo. 1896. 

York. An Elder. 

The cause of the higher education of women 
in the Society of Friends sustained a serious loss 
in the removal of this dear Friend, who had so 
large a share in promoting the efforts which have 



been recently so successfully made in this- 

Lydia Rous was the daughter of William 
and Mary Rous of Maidenhead, where she was- 
born on the 24th of 5th month, 1819, the birth- 
day of the Queen. She was one of a family of 
two brothers and seven sisters, all of whom who* 
attained to mature years, were engaged, during a 
longer or shorter period of their lives, as teachers. 
After four or five years at the Friends' School, 
Croydon, she was for two years at the private- 
school of Sarah and Maria Palmer, in that place ; 
and she undertook her first engagement in the 
year 1838, as a teacher in the family of Edward 
White, of Aspley Guise, in Bedfordshire. She- 
took the post of mistress of the Monitorial School 
at Ackworth in 1844, afterwards having charge 
of the senior class, and later being mistress on 
duty. She left in the year 1849. During part 
of this time, her sister Elizabeth (afterwards E. 
Comstock) was one of her colleagues. 

One of her earlier pupils speaks of her being 
remembered "with so much esteem and rever- 
ence," and adds, " I have not one recollection of 
her but brings a tender feeling over me, from 
the time I went a young child to Ackworth, 
when she was head mistress of the school I was 




in, to the time of leaving. I remember the 
privilege it was considered to have 'a nice 
preach from Lydia Rous,' — to be told to wait in 
No. 2 when the others w^ent to bed, when dear 
L. Eous would come, and with an arm i*ound the 
erring one, talk so lovingly and tenderly, it took 
but a few short minutes completely to subdue 
the delinquent. Then the best of all was to be 
.taken to bed, and to have the gentle, loving kiss, 
the privilege prized by all." 

Another pupil says, "I left Ackworth at the 
same time she did, and had been in her class for 
some time ; and I do feel a deep sense of 
indebtedness to her. No one ever held a similar 
place in my estimation. It was, I believe, largely 
due to the high ideal she held up to us, and the 
kind and loving, yet firm rule she exercised over 
•us. I feel quite sure hers has been a life-long 
influence in many cases." 

In 1851 she again engaged in private tuition, 
in the family of John Ellis, M.P., at Belgrave, 
near Leicester. Here she remained till 1855, 
when she removed to Darlington, undertaking 
the literary training of the two daughters of John 
and Sophia Pease at Eastmount. In 1856 she 
paid her first visit to America, crossing with her 
brother and sister, Frederick and Rebecca Rous, 



who were then leaving the superintendency of 
Wigton School, and were going to Canada to 
join their two sisters, Elizabeth and Lucy Ann,, 
who had preceded them in 1854. 

From the year 1858 to 1863 she taught the- 
children of John Bright, M.P., at One Ash, 
Rochdale. She highly valued the opportunity 
thus afforded of association with a man of such- 
wonderful energy and true culture, and actuated 
by such high motives in the important sphere he 
filled in the service of his country. How her 
labours were appreciated may be gathered from 
the words of J ohn Bright in a letter on her leaviug, 
dated 6mo. 26, 1863. He says : " I assure thee- 
that I join with all my family in the sense of 
loss which is common to us all on thy giving; 
up the charge of our children's education.. 
They will have much reason always to remember 
with gratitude thy conscientious labours on 
their behalf ; and their dear mother and myself 
will always regard it as a happy thing for them 
and for us, that they have been able to be so long 
under thy care." As she was then contemplat- 
ing a second visit to America, John Bright adds r. 
— I. hope thy voyage may be safe, and thy stay 
in America in every way pleasant, and that 
before thy return we may hear of the restora- 



lion of peace and the triumph of freedom on 
that continent." 

In the course of this visit, which took place 
•during the American war, she was associated 
with her sister, Elizabeth Comstock, in some of 
the labours she undertook in visiting the military 
hospitals and similar work, arising out of the 
lamentable struggle going on between the North 
and South. In these labours she heartily 
sympathized, though her own special line of duty 
lay in such a different direction. 

On her return to this country in 1864, Lydia 
Rous accepted the post of governess at the Friends' 
School, Mountmellick, where she remained for 
-about two years. It was in 1866 that she took 
the appointment of Principal of the Mount 
School, York, where she remained for thirteen 
years. It was here that the special qualifications 
which she possessed as a teacher were most 
strikingly manifested. Although she never had 
the advantage of anything approaching to a 
•college training, her previous experience, and the 
ever increasing store of information gathered up 
during her life, were brought to bear in a con- 
centrated form on this last of her engagements, 
where her efforts were crowned with a success 
which few of our educationists of recent years 



have attained. Many now in younger or middle 
life can bear witness to the extreme value of her 
instructions and influence at the Mount School. 
Her firm, yet truly kind rule, the high ideals 
which she held up as regards the conduct of life, 
and the enthusiasm in the pursuit of knowledge 
which her own earnestness encouraged in her 
pupils, are looked back upon with sincere and 
loving appreciation. Her interest in those under 
her charge did not cease with their leaving 
school, and in many cases she still, by correspon- 
dence and otherwise, exercised her valuable 
influence, and gave wise counsel when untoward 
or difficult circumstances arose. 

Her religious teaching was not of a sensa- 
tional character, but highly practical. She made 
no attempts to work on the emotional feelings of 
her pupils ; but while conducting the thorough 
biblical instruction which she imparted, she kept 
prominently in view the great end of the gift 
of the Holy Scriptures, that they " are able to 
make wise unto salvation through faith which is 
in Christ Jesus"; and that, being " given by 
inspiration of God, they are profitable for doctrine,, 
for reproof, for correction, for instruction in 
righteousness, that the man of God may be 
perfect, thoroughly furnished unto all good 



works." She would sometimes end a lesson to 
Ihe whole school on the great truths unfolded in 
the sacred page, with the words, 11 If ye know 
these things, happy are ye if ye do them." 

In the prospect of her retirement in 1879 
from the position she held at the Mount, the 
•Committee entered on their books the following 
minute : — 

" In looking to the approaching retirement of 
our friend Lydia Kous from the superintendence 
-of the Mount School, this Committee wishes to 
record the high estimation it entertains of the 
services rendered by her to the Institution, and 
to the large number of pupils who have been 
under her care, in the thirteen years of her 

" During this time more than one hundred 
young women have left the School to enter on 
the profession of Teaching. The individual 
influence exerted by Lydia Rous on the characters 
of these, as well as on the ordinary scholars, in 
promoting high literary culture, right habits and 
Christian views of life and conduct, have, we 
believe, been of signal service. We desire that 
the divine blessing, which has attended our dear 
friend in her active labours for the young, may 
be largely continued to her in her retirement." 



On quitting her post at the Mount, Lydia 
Rous continued to live in York, and was thus 
able still to be of service to the School in which 
she had been so deeply interested, as she was 
near at hand, and always ready to confer with 
her successors whenever they felt the need of her 
advice. Her interest in her old pupils remained, 
and many of them gladly took the opportunity of 
calling upon her whenever they revisited the old 

She paid one more visit to America in 1886. 
Her health continued fairly good till the spring 
of 1895, when an attack of a paralytic character 
very much prostrated her. It was accompanied 
with a trying decrease of mental and physical 
power, from which she never entirely rallied. 
She tried a change of air and scene without much 
result ; and finally took up her residence at 
Darlington with her brother and sister. She was 
able to see her friends when they called, and to 
enjoy their company, while feeling somewhat 
keenly the loss of her former powers. 

The last seizure came on very suddenly on 
the 15th of Twelfth month, 1896. There was no 
special premonition of the attack ; she almost 
immediately became unconscious, and in less than 
three hours peacefully passed away, being spared, 



it is believed, all physical suffering. The funeral 
took place at Darlington on the 18th, when, not- 
withstanding the inclemency of the weather, 
several of her friends, especially those connected 
with the Mount School, attended. Many tributes 
were offered on this occasion to the great value 
of the service she had been enabled to render to 
so large a number of her younger sisters. 

We subjoin a few extracts from the numerous 
letters which have been received, showing the 
appreciation of her work and character by old 
pupils and others who knew and loved her. 

Some beautiful flowers arrived, as a gift from 
one of her first pupils, on the morning of the 
day of her decease. She was able to enjoy them, 
much to the satisfaction of the sender, who 
writes : — " What a shock it was to me to know 
that my oldest and much loved friend was no 
more. It seems to me now as if I was separated 
by a wide gulf from all the associations of 
childhood ; for she was ever intimately connected 
with all who were dear to me, and I can scarcely 
realize that I can never see her dear face again. 
It has been a pathetic satisfaction to me that she 
looked on the flowers I had handled, on the very 
day of her departure. How she loved flowers \" 
" On how many young minds has her beautiful 



and cultivated character left its impress ! how 
many has she influenced for good ! " 

An old pupil, writing for herself and her 
brothers and sisters, says : — 

" We are all keenly sensible how much we 
owe to dear Lydia Rous, for all her care and 
kindness to us as children ; and latterly I have 
been made even more sensible of this, by read- 
ing some of her letters written to my mother and 
us, during her absences from home, — so kind, so 
far-seeing and so wise. She will indeed be 
missed and tenderly mourned by all her old 
pupils, and by a large circle of friends." 

An insight into her work at the Mount is 
given in the following : — 

" How greatly I honoured her ! I was at the 
Mount for two years, and I count it a great 
privilege to have been at the School when Lydia 
Rous was Head Mistress. We did certainly stand 
somewhat in awe of her ; but I was always 
impressed, even as a school girl, with the pains 
she took to develop the characters of the girls, 
and to teach us to try to form a wise and 
independent judgment in all things. I remember 
how, on one occasion, a particularly conscientious 
girl drew up a list of rules, and pinned it up on 
the bedroom wall, for the guidance of the other 



girls. We girls thought the idea an excellent 
one, but were soon shown that there was a still 
better way. 

" Lydia Rous made it the subject of one of 
her little Saturday evening addresses, and told 
us that there were no rules ; that we we were 
expected to do what was right, because it was 
right, and not because there was a set of rules 
which had to be obeyed. She always acted 
upon the same principle, appealing to our own 
sense of what was right and fitting, rather than 
to any outside regulations by which we were 

" Then she always invited the girls who 
were leaving to spend an evening in her parlour 
towards the close of the half-year. I shall never 
forget how seriously she spoke to us, when it 
came to my turn to join that party, on our duty 
to the Society to which we belonged. She 
warned us that we should probably have to face 
difficult problems, and might feel unsettled in 
our religious views ; but she advised us to think 
very seriously before resigning our membership^ 
and not to take such a step in a hurry, whatever 
might occur. 

" When I have found Friends taking strong 
views on one side or another, her words have 



many and many a time come to my mind, and 
had a steadying influence." 

Another writes : — " Personally I can never 
put into words how much I feel to owe her. 
Even apart from moral training, it was she who 
taught me to care for poetry and the best books, 
making me feel that such reading was a serious 
part of life, and to be cared for as such ; and it 
is to this that I owe what has been one of the 
greatest interests and pleasures of my life. She 
was always a most sympathetic friend and 

Again, an old Mount scholar says : — u I re- 
call with love and reverence how much she 
was to us as dear friend and mistress ; and I 
am sure that a large circle of old pupils will 
say with me how much of good we owe to Lydia 

" Her nobility of character and brilliant 
mental endowments exercised a moral force that 
was powerful enough to arrest the attention of 
even thoughtless school girls ; and none of those 
who shared the privilege of knowing her in- 
timately, can ever forget her wise kindness and 
the tenderness of her sympathy." 

Another, who has since passed away, 
wrote : — " For my own part I feel I have lost a 



good and true friend ; for to her influence over me 
when at school I owe all the good of my life ; 
and we can truly say of her, 1 Well done, good 
and faithful servant ; enter thou into the joy 
of thy Lord.' " 

Again we have one who as a child, and 
afterwards at school, was much attached to 
her : — " Next to my mother, I feel that I owe more 
to Lydia Kous than to anyone, in the formation of 
my character. She is entwined in the memories 
of my childhood, added to which there is all her 
beautiful, wise influence over me at the Mount — 
a priceless blessing ! 

" How very beautiful that she had such a 
quick and painless end, and that what she had 
so dreaded, came as a bright angel after all ! " 

An old scholar, who was afterwards a teacher 
under her, says : — " She did so much for me in 
every way. I feel that I owe the direction of 
my life mainly to her, and that she strengthened 
and stimulated me at the time when I most 
needed it." 

Another old pupil writes : — " I think her 
name is one of the very first I can remember ; 
when I was a tiny girl in the nursery, my 
big cousins used to tell me of their great 
doings at the Mount, and of Lydia Kous and 


her sayings ; and my highest ambition was 
to grow big enough to climb to such far away 
heights. I should think very few women in our 
Society had a wider or nobler influence, though 
perhaps it was not as often talked of as the 
careers of those whose work in philanthropy or 
preaching was by its nature more prominent." 

The following gives a beautiful insight into 
the true religious feeling which underlay all her 
labours for the good of her pupils : — 

" How many tender memories come back to 
one ! How well I remember a talk in her bed- 
room, just before I left school, when she was 
trying to cheer me up (I having a lower place 
than I had hoped), and how she said, I have not 
been one who talked much to you on religious 
subjects, but I think you all know how earnestly 
I desire that my pupils may be followers of 
Jesus. And I can never forget, when the part- 
ing came, how sad I felt. And how I remember 
the tender, motherly pressure of her arms, as she 
whispered, ' Farewell, my precious child ! God 
bless thee, my darling. 7 For her we cannot 
mourn, believing that an entrance has been ad- 
ministered abundantly into the kingdom of our 
Lord and Saviour ; but we mourn that we shall 
see her here no more." 




Jane Rowntree, 72 8 3mo. 1897. 

Headingley, formerly of Scarborough. 
Edith Rugg, 50 12 5mo. 1897. 

Newport, Isle of Wight. 
Richard Rushmer, 79 19 2mo. 1897. 


Thomas Rushworth, 69 26 12mo. 1896. 

Elizabeth Russell, 90 23 2mo. 1897. 

Lucy M. Russell, 39 2 lmo. 1897. 

York. Wife of J. R. Russell. 
Sophia E. Sams, 73 8 2mo. 1897. 

Weston-super-Mare. An Elder. Widow of 

Joseph Sams. 

Sophia E. Sams, widow of Joseph Sams, of 
Thornbury, Gloucestershire, was the youngest 
daughter of the late Joseph Sams, of Darlington. 
She was born in 1823. Her father is described 
in the recently published fiftieth volume of the 
"Dictionary of National Biography," as "an 
Orientalist," concerning whom considerable 
interest remains from his collections of Egyptian 
curiosities ; the British Museum and other 
collections having been enriched by them. 

Her mother was Mary Brady, of Doncaster, 
daughter of James and Sarah Brady, described 



by those who remembered her as one of the " sweet 
and lovely of the earth." 

The long row of gravestones in the Friends' 
burial ground at Darlington show how, within a 
period of two years, four sisters, just blossoming 
into womanhood, and one young brother of the 
subject of this memoir, were one after another 
removed by death through rapid decline. Of 
these, Sophia E. Sams and her younger brother 
Frederic were the only survivors, he also 
succumbing to the same complaint a few years 

Their mother followed her five children, in 
decline, when Sophia was ten years old. She 
remembered herself as a child of somewhat 
mature thought at that age, having been her 
mother's companion during her often repeated 
trials from the deaths in the family, and during 
her own failing health. She also well remem- 
bered the brightness and happiness of their home 
during the lives of these sweet sisters, even 
during the long travels of her father, whose 
absence was always keenly felt. 

Many of their letters, still preserved, show 
how united was the love among the family group, 
and give some bright allusions to the social life 
amongst Friends of Darlington nearly seventy 



years ago. Esther, the eldest of Sophia Sams's 
sisters, who died at twenty-one, seems to have 
been peculiarly lovely, both in person and char- 
acter. A piece of her bright golden hair still 
remains, put away amongst others, and labelled 
by their sorrowing mother as " precious relics of 
lost treasures." Esther herself writes in touch- 
ing terms of the deaths of her two sisters 
next in age, Hannah and Mary Sarah, who 
preceded her to the grave, both having given 
a good testimony by their lives, and the former 
clearly expressing her faith at her departure, 
that all was well. Of Lucy, the youngest of the 
four, who passed away in 1832, in her seven- 
teenth year, a short account was sent to the 
Annual Monitor for that year by a Friend of 
Darlington ; and in 1837 their mother, Mary Sams, 
fell asleep in Jesus. 

Sophia was thus early bereft of her mother 
and of all her sisters ; but she formed helpful 
f renclships, which were life-long, during the years 
that Darlington continued to be her home. At 
the age of twenty-three she married her cousin, 
Joseph Sams, then Manager of a branch bank 
at Somerton. A few years later, however, they 
removed to Thornbury, Gloucestershire, when 
Joseph Sams entered into a partnership in the 



Bank in that town. The happy life there, how- 
ever, came to an end seven years later, when, in 
1862, the beloved husband and father was 
removed by death. 

The words " As thy day thy strength shall 
be " were, in the experience of Sophia E. Sams 
(as those who knew her will acknowledge) 
wonderfully realised. 

Her last home, at Weston-super-Mare, is 
hallowed to many by sweet memories of the dear 
departed. " When He hath tried me, I shall come 
forth as gold," was indeed true of her. She is 
remembered in her early married years, as 
unusually bright, charming and attractive, and 
the cheerful and hopeful temperament, natural 
to her, wonderfully supported her through trial ; 
but in her latter days, when surrounded by 
blessing and peace, and the love of many dear 
friends, her character having deepened through 
the various dispensations of her life, her loving 
gentleness and sympathy, combined with a sound 
judgment, made her, not unfrequently, a helper 
and counsellor of others, and she was much 
valued in her capacity of Elder in the Meeting 
to which she belonged. 

The brightness and buoyancy which had 
characterized her life continued to its close. Ia 



the midst of the peaceful happiness which 
encircled the home at Weston she was almost 
suddenly removed, after nine days of influenza and 
pleuro-pneumonia. Although greatly surprised 
herself, when it was found that her illness was 
likely to end fatally, she beautifully and calmly 
yielded her wish to recover ; and the sweetness of 
her smiles of love before her departure can never 
be forgotten by those who witnessed them. 

She had never given much expression to 
religious feeling in word ; but her face has several 
times been described as " one which carried 
Heaven in it" ; and this, as well as her example, 
spoke the peace within. Just before her depar- 
ture, when lying perfectly still, she again opened 
her eyes, and with a never to be forgotten look, 
stretched out her hand towards her beloved 
daughter, exclaiming "up! up!" an emphatic and 
last assurance to the one whom she was leaving 
behind, that her spirit was already on the wing ; 
after which she quietly breathed her last. 
Jane Satterthwaite, 76 10 6mo. 1897. 

Birkdale, Southport. 
Everard H. Sawer 56 26 12mo. 1896. 

Merrion, Dublin. 
Elizabeth A. Scarles 52 25 4mo. 1897. 




Mary H. Sewell 19 22 llmo. 1896. 

Colchester. Daughter of Jesse and Sarah 

Hannah Shannon, 73 30 3mo. 1897. 


Isaac Sharp, 91 21 3mo. 1897. 

Ettington. A Minister. 

Isaac Sharp was born at Brighton, on the 
4th of 7th month, 1806. It was a year memor- 
able in English annals ; the year after the battle 
of Trafalgar ; the year that Pitt and Fox died ; 
the year that Napoleon vanquished Prussia at 
Jena, and launched the Berlin decrees against 
the commerce of England. The power of the 
Corsican despot was then at its zenith ; the issue 
of the great struggle, and with it the fate of 
our country, seemed still trembling in the 
balance. It was nine years before the battle of 
Waterloo ; twenty-six years before the passing 
of the first Reform Bill ; twenty-four before the 
first railway ; penny postage, electric telegraphs, 
and telephones were things undreamed of, being 
yet in the remote future. Isaac Sharp remem- 
bered, as a child of four years old, seeing an ox 
roasted in the open air at Brighton on the occas- 
ion of the jubilee of George III. in 1810 ; he 
was present at the jubilee of his grand-daughter 



Victoria in 1887 ; and he died just three months 
before the commemoration of the sixtieth year of 
her reign. We recall these facts because they 
help us to realize the wonderful vitality, the 
broad humanitarianisrn, the rare adaptability 
which enabled a man, whose early life was 
passed in surroundings so different from ours r 
still to maintain an active interest in our busy, 
restless age of discovery and speculation, and to 
keep in sympathetic touch with a generation so 
unlike his own. 

Isaac Sharp was the son of Isaac and Mary 
Sharp. He was the eldest of fourteen children, 
only two of whom survive him. His father was 
engaged in business in Brighton ; and to his 
early association with the sea-shore may be attri- 
buted that intense love of the sea which 
characterized him. To the last year of his life it 
was his delight to wander over the breezy Downs 
of his native Sussex. His mother's maiden 
name was Likeman. She died while he was yet 
young ; but her memory was cherished by him, 
and the day of her death was one of his memorial 
days throughout his long life. When he reached 
the age of eleven years he was sent to a boarding 
school at Earls' Colne in Essex, conducted by 
William Impey. The standard of education 



in those days was not high, and boys intended 
for a business career commonly left school at the 
age of fourteen. At that age, accordingly, Isaac 
Sharp was apprenticed to Day and Eobson of 
Saffron Walden. During his stay in Essex, 
whether as schoolboy or apprentice, he contracted 
friendships which were destined to endure and 
yield him much pleasure in after life. In the 
year 1830 he removed to Darlington at the 
invitation of Joseph Pease, to whom he subse- 
quently acted as private secretary. At the 
election of 1832, Joseph Pease was returned as 
Member of Parliament, being the first Friend to 
enter the House of Commons. In many of his 
enterprises, then in their early stages, Isaac 
Sharp assisted him, and usually accompanied 
him to meetings which he held in the neighbour- 
hood. Subsequently he rilled the responsible 
position of manager of the Peases' Middlesborough 
estate, where, owing to the discovery of iron ore 
in the Cleveland Hills, a single farmhouse grew 
into a town of 70,000 inhabitants. The rapid 
development of the place necessitated his resi- 
dence on the spot, and he removed thither in 

In the year 1839, Isaac Sharp married 
Hannah Procter of North Shields, and shared 



with her three short years of happy wedded life. 
She died in 1842, leaving him with two little 
motherless girls to care for, the youngest just 
five months old. The sense of this bereavement 
never left him ; and to the last the anniversary 
of his wife's death was noted and tenderly re- 

Some time after his removal to Middles- 
borough he passed through a serious illness, which 
nearly proved fatal. Late in life he sustained 
serious financial losses, and his position as to 
outward prosperity was thereby altered for the 
residue of his days. But this, as well as all 
other trials, which in his case were neither few 
nor insignificant, he accepted with cheerfulness 
and resignation, as dispensations from the good 
hand of an all-loving Father. 

From very early life Isaac Sharp had been 
subject to serious impressions, which deepened 
as the years advanced. " Under the powerful 
visitation. of Divine grace, in the abounding love 
of God in Jesus Christ," he writes, "the Lord 
was graciously pleased to accept the surrender of 
my young heart to Him ; and in perfect peace a 
willingness was mercifully wrought in me to love 
and serve my Kedeemer, as He might be pleased 
to lead the way." In the year 1842, he was 



recorded a Minister by Darlington Monthly 
Meeting. With respect to this he wrote quite 
recently, " Ten years passed over me from the 
day when my mouth was first opened in the 
ministry to the day when the gift was recorded 
by the Church ; and even then I was somewhat 
taken by surprise." Isaac Sharp's ministry was 
not remarkable for eloquence, learning, or profound 
thought. His addresses had the natural defects 
of most extempore discourses — diffuseness and 
lack of arrangement. But they were accompanied 
by a weight, solemnhy, and earnestness of con- 
viction which impressed his hearers, and were 
clothed with a quaint poetic diction which was 
attractive to many. He lived very near to the 
Master, the true source of power, and hence the 
influence of his words upon his fellow men. 
Through life he had a profound belief in an 
over-ruling Providence, and in the Divine guid- 
ance vouchsafed to man. It was a common 
saying of his, which he was never tired of 
repeating, " They who mark the hand of 
Providence, will never want a Providence to 
mark." A few months before his death it was 
remarked to him that his friends felt very anxious 
on his account while attending a funeral in very 
inclement weather ; he replied, " All through life, 



when I have felt it right for me to do a thing, I 
have done it regardless of the consequences ; and 
I have never had reason to regret it." 

In the year 1846 began that long series of 
labours and journeyings in foreign lands, which 
only ended with his life. His first such service 
was in Norway, when, under a sense of 
religious duty, he had an interview with the 
King, and travelled to the extreme north of the 
country. Next year, in company with Barnard 
Dickinson, he visited the Orkney and Shetland 

In 1861 he started on a mission to Iceland, 
accompanind by Asbjorn Kloster, a Friend from 
Norway. This service had long rested on his 
mind. No member of the Society of Friends 
had previously visited the island in a religious 
capacity, and no creed but the Lutheran was 
tolerated within its bounds. Fortunately the 
executive committee of the Bible Society was 
then sitting in London, and it appointed Isaac 
Sharp as its delegate to Iceland. With this 
introduction he gained admittance to the Bishop 
of the island, and obtained permission to hold 
meetings with the inhabitants. The first meeting 
was held in a hotel ; the large room was crowded,, 
and the two Friends had considerable service. 



At the close of the meeting much satisfaction 
was expressed, and such remarks as these were 
heard amongst the people : " This is what we 
want." "We never heard the like before." 
u This is quite new." " Oh ! that you could speak 
to the people in Icelandic ! " Isaac Sharp adds,. 
" Precious and deep was the calm upon our spirits, 
and in the brightness of the northern clime it 
was near twelve before we were inclined to retire 
for the night." From Eeikjavik the travellers 
set out to visit the remote villages and stations 
round the island. The journey was one involving 
much fatigue, and not without peril. In after 
years Isaac Sharp was wont to describe Iceland 
as a country of negatives. " No dissent, no army, 
no navy, no prisons, no roads, no inns, no 
carriages, no trees, no poultry, no snakes." The 
only mode of travel was on horseback, with 
pack-horses for. baggage. The travellers some- 
times went for two days without seeing a house ; 
sometimes they slept in a barn or a church, 
sometimes in their tent pitched upon damp 
ground, it might be after thirteen hours in the 
saddle without stopping for food or rest ; and 
occasionally the meal was scant, and no means 
of drying their wet clothes at hand. Danger 
was often added to fatigue and discomfort ; 




eiorasses had to be crossed ; and rivers, perilous 
from quicksands and sudden floods, forded. 
Once when the travellers arrived at a river which 
was found to be impassable, they were obliged 
to make a circuit, under the direction of their 
guides, and cross the glacier from which the 
stream issued, with much toil and delay, and no 
•slight risk to themselves and their baggage 
animals. But through all they preserved a cheer- 
ful and thankful spirit, and Isaac Sharp enjoyed 
the pure atmosphere, and the wild and beautiful 
scenery by which they were surrounded. " Thus 
are we watched over and mercifully cared for 
from day to da}'," is his comment on the journey. 
The next year, 1862, with a companion, he visited 
the Faroe islands. This, too, was an undertaking 
not without risk ; for the passage in small boats 
from one to another of the eight or nine islands 
composing the group was liable to sudden storms, 
and landing was difficult and dangerous owing to 
the Atlantic swell. It sometimes happened that 
persons who had come to an island for a brief 
call were detained for weeks by the exigencies 
•of the weather. Yet the service of our friends 
was accomplished without harm or loss, and to 
their own peace and satisfaction. The following 
year Isaac Sharp was again in Iceland, to complete 



the work which he had left unfinished two years- 

In 1864 he visited the Moravian Mission 
stations in Greenland, in company with Harrison 
Penney. His visit was helpful and encouraging, 
and was long remembered as a cheer by those 
devoted men, who, cut off from home and 
civilization, save for a brief visit of a missionary 
vessel once a year, in the region of eternal frost,, 
laboured amid much discouragement for the 
spiritual and temporal well-being of a race- 
exceptionally low in the scale of intelligence.. 
His long-felt interest in their work was deepened 
by this journey, and continued to the end of his- 
life. With a like object in view he went to 
Labrador in the summer of the next year. These 
two voyages were undertaken in sailing vessels,, 
and the passages to and fro occupied so many 
months, that only a few weeks remained for his. 
visits to the mission stations. 

In 1869 he re- visited Norway, and again in 
1873. It was during this latter visit that he- 
contracted an illness of most dangerous character. 
As soon as practicable, and while his condition 
was yet critical, he was conveyed home from 
Stavanger, to be nursed in the house of his 
brother-in-law, John Dunning. His physicians- 



and friends entertained but little hope of his 
recovery ; yet he persisted in the belief that 
u his sickness was not unto death," as he clearly 
saw before him the larger service that he felt 
would be required at his hands. 

Scarcely had he recovered, when he set out 
to attend the General Meeting of Friends at 
Glasgow, and to visit other parts of Scotland. 
The years 1875 and 1876 were partly spent in 
Norway and Denmark, and in visits to Friends 
at Minden, and in the south of France. 

At length, in the year 1877, when he was in 
his seventy -first year, he brought before his 
Monthly Meeting the prospect of the largest 
service he ever undertook, and asked for a certifi- 
cate liberating him to visit South Africa, 
Madagascar, Australia, Tasmania, New Zealand, 
•California, and other parts of the continent of 
North America. After some very natural hesita- 
tion his friends granted him the desired minute ; 
and he set out for Cape Town in company with 
Langley Kitching and Theodore Harris. On 
their arrival the three Friends were received 
with much kindness, and held several meetings 
for the public in the chapels of various denomina- 
tions. Having completed their service in Cape 
Oolony, Isaac Sharp, with Langley Kitching 



only, entered upon a long- course of travel 
in the interior of South Africa, chiefly with a 
view to visiting the widely scattered mission 
stations. Across the roadless, treeless, and 1 
often waterless veldt they journeyed, in 
lumbering vehicles drawn by teams of oxen, 
from station to station, cheering the hearts of 
lonely workers in the solitary wild. The Zulu 
war was then impending, and all South Africa 
was seething with unrest. Murder was in the 
air ; and on one occasion it came very near to the 
travellers ; for a kindly family who had 
hospitably entertained them on the road, a few 
days later fell victims to the treachery of the 
natives. When in Basutoland, Isaac Sharp was 
preaching one day in a church ; a storm 
came on ; a flash of lightning entered the- 
building, and passing over his head, killed the- 
infant daughter of a missionary in a pew close- 
by. Our two friends reached the remote station, 
of Kuruman, once the scene of the labours of 
Moffat and Livingstone ; and from thence, being 
warned by the courtesy of Colonel Lanyon, the 
administrator of Griqua Land West, that the- 
direct route was not safe, they returned soutli 
through the Transvaal. In a letter written from 
South Africa, Isaac Sharp says, " Not a few inv 



this land look upon it as a remarkably bold thing 
at my time of life to enter on such a journey, 
and marvel at the ability readily to cope with it. 
My own feeling is, without wavering, that the 
hand of the Lord is in it." And again : — "They 
■-sometimes smile and say that I am proud, and 
will not submit to put on the old man. Then 
•comes another smile, as I agree to the verdict, 
and add, 'Yes ; and but for a spice of this you 
would not have seen me in Africa.'" 

From South Africa Isaac Sharp sailed to 
Madagascar. There his companion Langley 
Kitching left him and returned to England. He 
remained more than a year in the island, residing 
part of the time with the missionaries at 
Antananarivo, but making frequent excursions 
into other parts of the country. His arrival in 
the capital was most opportune. Difficulties had 
arisen among the missionaries of the various 
denominations, which might have seriously 
affected the future of mission work in the island. 
Coming in as a stranger, and apparently unconscious 
of the circumstances, Isaac Sharp, by the spirit 
he infused into all around him, was enabled to 
assuage these difficulties and tone down asperi- 
ties ; and when he departed he left a more 
hopeful state of affairs behind him. Such was 



the testimony, in after years, of one who was a 
missionary in the island at the time, and who 
spoke from personal experience of the wonderful 
influence and helpful cheer exercised by Isaac 
Sharp's presence. When, in 1890, the same 
missionary, then residing in England, was 
informed that Isaac Sharp was again contem- 
plating further arduous and protracted service, 
but that many of his friends doubted the wisdom 
of sanctioning it at his advanced age, he 
remarked, "If Mr. Sharp says so, I have not a 
shadow of doubt that he is called to the work ; 
and I am sure he will be enabled to perform it." 

A remarkable incident, which strikingly illus- 
trates the influence of his presence and demeanour, 
occurred while he was travelling in a region 
where the savage tribes were not amenable to 
the Hova government. He had been warned 
against attempting this journey, and told that his 
life would be in danger. But he had heard the 
•call to go, and he went " regardless of the con- 
sequences." One day, during a halt, while the 
meal was being prepared, he was sitting alone 
and apart from his company. Suddenly he 
became aware that natives were stealthily 
approaching, and that weapons were being 
directed against his party from various quarters. 



Calm and ready for whatever might follow, he 
remained quite still, but taking care to let it be 
seen that he was unarmed. Emboldened by this 
the savages ventured out from their concealment. 
Then he looked up and smiled upon them with that 
wonderfully attractive smile of his. The savages 
were conquered ; they lowered their weapons ; 
came forward, and entered into conversation 
with the travellers. After brief explanation of 
their purpose, the latter were permitted to 
pass unmolested by the fierce barbarians who 
had come intent only on slaughter and plunder. 

When the time for leaving Madagascar was 
come, considerable difficulty was experienced in 
finding a passage. After waiting in vain expec- 
tation of the arrival of a passenger steamer, Isaac 
Sharp sailed in a small cargo vessel bound for 
Bourbon. There was no suitable accommodation 
for passengers on board ; the vessel carried a cargo 
of geese and hogs, — hogs in the hold, geese on 
deck. The misery of that voyage may be 
imagined. At Bourbon he met with a steamer 
bound for Mauritius ; and thence he took 
ship for Australia. On reaching Melbourne he 
was met by Joseph J. Neave, who subsequently 
became his " faithful companion and fellow 
labourer for nearly two years in Australia, 



Tasmania and New Zealand." Together they 
visited the meetings of Friends, and sought out 
isolated members in those regions. 

Setting out once more alone, he crossed six 
thousand miles of sea, and after a voyage of 
twenty-three days landed in San Francisco. Then, 
to quote his own words, " All the Yearly Meetings 
on the American continent were visited, and 
several of our educational establishments. Our 
friend Joel Bean and I travelled together in 
much harmony for five months." From the 
United States Isaac Sharp went to Mexico, and 
visited the Friends' Mission established there in 
the midst of a Roman Catholic population. The 
fatigues and discomforts of this journey were 
not the least of those he so often encountered — 
travelling with a wagon over roads very deep in 
mud, sleeping in the open at night, sometimes 
with the snow falling on his face, exposed at 
times to " perils of robbers," when the Mexican 
bandits were prowling in the neighbourhood, so 
that the travellers feared to light a lire lest they 
should attract their notice. 

Towards the end of Third month, after an 
absence of nearly seven years, Isaac Sharp re- 
turned to England. But such was his zeal for 
service, and so little was he exhausted by his long 



travel, that in Seventh month of the same year 
he was again in Norway. 

Not long after this his now widowed sister r 
with whom he had long made his home, removed 
to Broadstairs in Kent. He removed with her, 
but still retained his membership in Darlington 
Monthly Meeting. In the year 1887 his sister 
died, and he was obliged to find a new home in 
his old age. He had many offers from relatives 
and others, but finally accepted the invitation of 
some kind friends to take up his abode in a house 
which they provided for him at Ettington near 
Stratford-on-Avon, where resided his only sur- 
viving brother. 

In the year 1890, at the age of eighty-four,, 
to the astonishment of all his friends, he laid 
before his Monthly Meeting a project to visit 
meetings and mission stations in France, Syria,. 
Constantinople, India, Japan, and the American 
continent. Grave doubts as to the expediency of 
granting him a minute at first prevailed ; but 
here, as afterwards at the Yearly Meeting in 
London, when he came to state his case, his 
earnestness and deep conviction put all opposi- 
tion aside, and he was cordially liberated for the 
work. But ere he entered upon its performance 
his faith was still to be sorely tried. When he 



was about to start for France a severe illness 
confined him to a London hotel for a whole 
month. Those who had previously questioned 
the wisdom of his undertaking so extensive a 
mission now seemed justified in their forebodings. 
But his own faith never faltered, and he wrote : — 
u A beacon light is still burning on the coast of 
France, bright in mental vision, with no cloud to 
obscure it. I saw it as I lay prostrate, and see it 
still, burning with radiant brightness, fed with 
oil from the rock by night and by day. Faith 
has never been permitted to fail me, and I still 
look forward in hope, with joyful expectancy, 
enabled with quiet confidence to go forth and 
leave the issue, whatever the issue may be, without 
anxious thought." Yet one more trial of faith 
awaited him. He left England after his 
recovery, in excellent health and spirits, and 
arrived in Paris. Here, through slipping on the 
waxed floor of his bedroom, he fell, and sus- 
tained serious injury. He lay for a time in a 
condition of great suffering, through which he 
was most kindly cared for and tended by his 
friends, Joseph R. and Mariana Pirn. When 
sufficiently recovered to be removed, his physi- 
cians pronounced him unfit to travel further, 
and he returned to England early in 1891, 



" there to watch and wait for the further un- 
folding of Heavenly counsel." Before the end 
of the year he again set out on his travels, this 
time for Philippopolis and Constantinople. In 
the latter city, after some delay, he was joined 
by Dr. Dixon, who was unexpectedly liberated to 
accompany him. Quarantine regulations, due to 
an outbreak of cholera, obliged him to pass by 
Syria at this time, and he proceeded direct to 
India. In the Red Sea he had another attack 
of illness, but by the time he reached 
India he was able to travel, and visited the 
mission stations of Friends in that great de- 
pendency. Then he passed, by way of Japan, 
to San Francisco in California, and arrived at the 
house of his daughter, Elizabeth H. Shelley, at 
San Jose. There he parted with his companion, 
Dr. Dixon, who returned to England. After a 
brief rest, he went to Oregon in company with 
Joel Bean. While travelling there he was seized 
with alarming illness, and had barely strength 
to regain the shelter of his daughter's home, 
where he lay for weeks at the gates of death. 

During this illness a strong impression rested 
on his mind that he must return across the 
Pacific and visit China, before further prosecuting 
his work in America ; and though his physicians 



gave no hope of his recovery, he asserted his 
conviction that he would be raised up to perform 
the work which he saw awaiting him. And so 
the event proved. His friends in London felt 
that they could not take the responsibility of 
sanctioning his proposal, and advised his first 
completing his work on the American continent. 
But he insisted that now was the time for his 
mission to China, and if that were set aside, the 
way was closed for further labour. Acting 
therefore on his own responsibility, and trusting 
in Divine support and guidance, he set sail alone 
for Japan. Thence he passed to China, made the 
long voyage up the Yangtse-Kiang, and escaping 
the dangers of the rapids, arrived safely at 
Chung-King. There he was cordially welcomed, 
not only by the community of the Friends' 
Mission, but by missionaries of other denomina- 
tions ; and his visit seems to have been opportune, 
like his arrival at Antananarivo some years 
before. " Incredulity," he wrote at this time, " is 
ready to whisper 'and this at eighty-six ! ' What 
matter ? I go with my life in my hand (not the 
first time). The Lord Jesus, I have faith to 
believe, will care for me whatever be the issue. 
'Joseph gave commandment concerning his 
bones.' I have none to give, for I do not 
anticipate their being laid away in China." 




Returning from China to San Jose, he 
resumed his work in America. He travelled in 
Southern California and Mexico, and visited 
various Yearly Meetings of Friends in the United 
rStates. Finally, in 1894, he sailed from New- 
York in time to attend the Yearly Meeting in 
London, where he returned his certificate, but 
obtained permission to complete those portions 
-of his work which were still unaccomplished. 
The Autumn of the same year found him in the 
£>outh of France ; and in the Ninth month of 
the following year he departed for Syria to 
.complete the last item of the remarkable pro- 
gramme. After a brief tarriance among the 
Friends' Mission Stations, and visits to Jerusalem 
and Hebron, he came back to England for the 
last time. Forty-five times his friends of 
Darlington Monthly Meeting had granted him 
certificates for service and travel. The long 
labours had now come to an end as he reached 
his home at Ettington on the 28th of the Twelfth 

He was cheerful and full of thankfulness 
for the accomplishment of his mission, and 
seemed to be preparing for a more settled sojourn 
among his home surroundings. To him to live 
and not to serve was impossible ; but it was 



a relief no longer to anticipate great and arduous 
undertakings. Failing eye-sight and attacks of 
illness incident to advancing age warned him of 
the coming end ; but neither he nor those about 
him imagined that it was so near at hand. 
During the last year of his life the loss of many 
beloved friends and relatives deeply touched his 
sympathetic nature ; but his buoyant disposition, 
added to his profound faith, enabled him to 
surmount these last trials. 

On the 28th of Twelfth month, 1896, he deliv- 
ered an address on " Incidents of Travel " to a 
large company of Friends in Devonshire House,. 
London. Notwithstanding his ninety years, he 
spoke with vigour, and was heard with sustained 
interest for over an hour. He remained a week in 
London ; and, the weather being inclement, he 
caught a chill, which hastened his return home on 
the 8th of First month. At first it was believed 
that he was only suffering from the effect of cold ; 
but it soon became evident that more serious mis- 
chief was at work. Still he hoped to be restored^ 
and looked forward to meeting his friends in the 
north of England in Fourth month. But this was 
not to be. Paroxysms of excruciating pain came 
on, and their return grew more frequent as the 
weeks progressed ; till finally peritonitis super- 



vened and left no longer any room for hope or 
•doubt. Yet in the midst of suffering, and 
notwithstanding the depressing nature of his 
complaint, he bore up with unalterable patience, 
and, at times, even with cheerfulness. He was 
grateful for all that was done for him, and very 
considerate to those about him. When his 
doctor intimated that his release from suffering 
was at hand, he meekly answered, u In His own 
good time, — blessed be His holy name ! " A 
short time before his death he requested that his 
nephew might take down his words ere speech 
completely failed him ; and then, though with 
much difficulty, he spoke thus : — " This is my 
death-bed testimony. I have a living sense that 
it is best to live in the love and power of God, 
that we may be complete in Him in Whom alone 
we can be complete, — blessed be His holy name ! 
'To me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. Death 
is swallowed up in victory." 

Two days before the end, when utterance 
■was almost gone, as his doctor stood by his bed- 
side, he regarded him with a beautiful smile, and 
raising his eyes he waved his right hand upward 
three times, as though he were indicating the 
iheavenly vista that was opening upon his spiritual 
.sight ; and then whispered the words, " Glory, 



glory, glory ! " The last night of his life he was- 
apparently unconscious ; and at noon, on the 21st 
of Third month, surrounded by loving friends* 
and relatives, he quietly passed to " the rest 
that remaineth for the people of God." 
John Sharp, 52 30 lOmo. 1896, 


Martha M. Sharp, 92 27 9mo. 1897, 

Ettington. Wife of Thompson Sharp. 

Janet E. Shaw, 23 26 7mo. 1897, 


Sarah Shephard, 80 30 3mo. 1897, 

Holloioay. Widow of George Shephard. 

Caroline Shipley, 74 10 12mo. 1896, 


Priscilla Shrive, 65 21 12mo. 1896. 

Wellingborough. Wife of William Shrive. 
Henry Sidney, 76 21 lmo. 1897. 


Mary Ann Simpson, 36 21 6mo. 1897. 

Bridlington. Wife of Frederic Simpson. 
Bartholomew Smith, 82 28 lmo. 1897. 

Weston-super-Mare. A Minister. 
Bartholomew Smith was the youngest of 
the ten children of John and Elizabath Harris 
Smith of Thirsk, and was born in 1814. It was 
in after years a matter of regret to him that he 



had not, like the rest of the family, the advantage 
of an education in some of the Friends' Schools, 
but was sent to a school of repute in the neigh- 
bourhood, where the discipline was ineffective, 
-and the "education" meagre, Perhaps the 
master had to deal with an inattentive scholar. 

At thirteen he left school, and entered his 
father's business. He had not much time for 
self -culture, as the shop opened at six, and did 
not close till nine or later, which circumstance 
led to a habit of early rising, which continued to 
the end of his life. In the summer he went out 
to fish at dawn, until the objection of his mother 
•overcame his natural love of "sport," and he gave 
it up. 

When he was about fifteen a friend of the 
family noticed his aptitude in using his pencil, 
and kindly gave him a box of paints with a little 
encouraging advice. This was the foundation of 
his lifelong pursuit of painting. His industry in 
this occupation was very remarkable, and it was 
for many years the absorbing employment of his 
leisure, and he achieved in it considerable 

When he was about eighteen he came to see 
the evil of the use of alcoholic drinks, and 
before he had heard of total abstinence he became 



a total abstainer, with (so far as appears) no 
encouragement from his family. 

The temperance question from this time was 
increasingly a subject of intense interest to him, 
and in this cause he worked with unremitting 

He was a fearless, earnest, and convincing 
speaker, as appeared by the fact that many joined 
the Temperance Society at the meetings he held 
in the country. He knew personally, and 
constantly visited those of his fellow-townsmen 
who were addicted to drinking. His mission to 
the poor did not stop here. Wherever he knew 
of cases of want or sickness, his personal aid was 
forthcoming, and he was successful in the 
treatment of many of the latter by hydropathic 
methods. To any who knew Bartholomew Smith 
it will not appear surprising that his sympathy 
was not unfrequently expended on those who 
were unworthy of it. 

In his twenty-sixth year he was married to 
Isabel Oddie, of Warrington, and this union was 
one of uninterrupted happiness till after the 
" Golden Wedding " day, when his dear wife, 
who had before this shown signs of failing health, 
became a permanent invalid until she died, four 
years before himself. 



The great simplicity of B. Smith's character 
was shown in his sympathy with children, whom 
he had a happy faculty for amusing, and by 
whom he was greatly beloved. 

B. Smith did not feel that he had received 
much help from his regular attendance, from his 
earliest childhood, of the Friends' Meeting at 
Thirsk, which was almost always during his 
earlier life held in silence. It seems as if at the 
mature age of forty-five, the first interpretation 
of his religious feelings came through the 
reading of a little book written by Professor 
John Kirk, of Edinburgh — " The way of Life 
made plain." He received its teaching as 
though the message of the gospel had never 
come to him before. But after this he was 
ready to talk to everyone of his faith, and he 
endeavoured most earnestly to bring them to the 
same experience. From this time he often 
accepted invitations " to take a service " in Non- 
conformist chapels ; and he joined with the 
Vicar of the parish in holding services in a 
cottage mission-room, which he fitted up for the 
purpose. He was for many years inclined to 
believe in the so-called " sacraments " as they 
are accepted by other Christian bodies, and joined 
in the taking of the bread and (unfermented) 



wine with some of his fellow-believers, simply 
as acknowledging and commemorating their 
allegiance to the Lord Jesus. He was always in 
full unity with Friends in their plea for simplicity 
of dress and personal habits, and he came in 
later life to believe that their practice in these 
and other respects is, on the whole, more in 
accordance with their profession than that of 
some others. Daring the last ten years of his 
iife, when he had removed to Weston-super- 
Mare, he enjoyed the meetings of Friends very 
much, and, partly no doubt influenced by his 
new environment, increasingly valued the views 
of truth as held by the Society. He had long 
believed it right for him to take a vocal part in 
meetings, and his simple statement of the truths 
of the Gospel, and his prayers (like one speaking 
to a well-tried friend) are much missed in the 
meeting at Weston. In the year 1888 he was 
acknowledged as a Minister. 

During the last few months of his life 
B. Smith's thoughts were much turned to the 
u Land beyond the River " ; and both in meeting 
and in his household he loved to speak of the 
glories of the " Better Land,' 1 to which he felt 
himself to be hastening, and where he looked 
forward to meeting his beloved partner. But 



thoughts of the future did not abate his interest 
in the world around him, and his labours for the 
poor, the drunkard, and the oppressed, and for the 
well-being of the lower animals, were unremitting 
as long as he had the necessary strength. One 
of his last efforts was to endeavour to unite the 
various Temperance Societies in the town into a 
Federation ; this has since been accomplished. 

His eyesight though much impaired, did not 
prevent him from using his brush and pencil,, 
and up to the last most of his relations and many 
of his friends received on their birthdays a little 
drawing or painting as a memento of the 

His last illness was only of seven da}^s- 
duration. It was attended by great difficulty of 
breathing, and much seeming unconsciousness : 
but in the evening before the last, a sudden 
access of energy seemed to come, and he enquired 
for each of his children and grandchildren who 
were in the house, and when " Are they all here ?'' 
was answered affirmatively, he said he had a 
great desire that all his family may meet in 
heaven before the throne, by faith in Jesus, and 
by listening carefull}- and attending to the voice 
of the Spirit of Christ j not only in great things, 
but in the " minutest 1 ' things we must "listen 



and attend." " I have felt for some months,'' he 
said, " much more careful to live in prayer, and 
to attend in everything to the guidance of the 
Spirit of Jesus. I want that you all should do 
right and live a life so pure and so attentive that 
we may all meet as a family in heaven. . . 
There are temptations on the right and on the 
left, — the temptations of pride in our own doings, 
of the cares of business, and being too much 
engrossed by it, and of ' very wicked things.' " 
He desired that all his children and grandchildren 
may be kept from " the things of the world," and 
that <£ all my posterity may come to the light of 
Christ." He said that he desired all this also for 
" our little Meeting," and that the right thing 
may be said and done, and the Divine guidance 
be known. 

B. Smith passed quietly away on the evening 
of Fifth-day, First month 28th ; he was uncon- 
scious during the preceding night and day. The 
funeral took place on the following Second-day, 
in the cemetery at Weston-super-Mare. 

Of B. Smith it may truly be said that he 
always acknowledged that it was by the grace of 
God in Jesus Christ that he was what he was ; 
and the same Divine power enabled him not only 
to serve his Master, but also to overcome to a 



remarkable degree, those natural dispositions, 
which, uncontrolled, would have hindered his 
growth in grace. 

This sketch may fittingly conclude with the 
verse which was placed on the memorial card: — 

" More life ! the life of heaven ! 

A perfect liberty to do Thy will ; 
Receiving all from Thee, and giving still, 

Freely as Thou hast given." 

Elizabeth Smith, 56 10 lmo. 1897. 


Frederic Smith, 70 2 4mo. 1897. 


Georgiana P. Smith, 37 13 2mo. 1897. 

Stockport. Wife of Joseph H. Smith. 
Hannah Smith, 91 16 2mo. 1897. 

Great A yton. An Elder. 
Joseph Smith, 77 24 12mo. 1896. 

Stepney. The compiler of the well-known 

Catalogue of Friends' Books and Writings. 
Martha Smith, 62 27 lOmo. 1896. 


Martha Smith was one who through many 
difficulties and trials was, as we cannot doubt, 
enabled to obtain the victory through her Lord 
and Saviour Jesus Christ ; and though her illness 
was very short and unexpected, so much so that 



none of her near connections could reach her in 
time, she seemed calm and collected and was 
able to leave all in the hands of Him in whom 
she trusted. 

She was the youngest daughter of Edward 
and Eliza Smith of the Haymarket, London. 
She was born in Ninth month, 1831, and in a little 
more than three years afterwards her father died 
after a short illness. This heavy affliction 
changed the prospects of the family, and not long 
afterwards they removed to Calne, in Wiltshire, 
where her mother had been brought up. 

From a child M. Smith possessed many 
endearing qualities, added to a capacity for learn- 
ing, and much perseverance and energy, so that 
the pains which her mother took in her education 
were not lost upon her. Her attachments were 
strong, and an ardent love for the country and 
the beauties of natural scenery was early developed 
by walks and rambles in the interesting district, 
and lasted with her through life. 

She however lacked the advantages of a time 
at school, and often felt this loss afterwards ; 
for, being naturally rather reserved and timid in 
company, the mingling with a number of others 
in school life would, no doubt, have helped her 
greatly, and enabled her to meet the difficulties 




of after life with much more ease and less self- 

The loss of her beloved mother, when 
nearly seventeen, was a great trial to her, and 
threw her very much on her own resources ; but 
in teaching a few children soon afterwards — an 
occupation she was not unaccustomed to, she 
showed much aptitude for the employment, and 
continued to devote herself to it at intervals 
during the remainder of her life. For many 
years she carried on a little school at Rawdon, 
where she was much beloved and valued, and 
was very successful in grounding the children 
well and gaining their affections. She was also 
particularly diligent in visiting the poor, as she 
had been previously when living at Leeds. For 
the last few years she was actively engaged in 
the temperance cause, being secretary to the 
association at Rawdon. One of her fellow 
workers writes of her : — " She had a wonderful 
capacity for work herself, and a power of 
winning others to take it up, both for the 
temperance cause and other objects that make 
for righteousness." 

Although of an aspiring and independent 
disposition, she was at one period of her life not 
unfrequently beset with feelings of depression, 



the causes for which were various ; but she 
found in service for others a solace for many of 
those losses and trials which she had largely to 
partake of. An extract from the only memoran- 
dum which has been found, of her personal 
experience, instructively shows how her heartfelt 
desires were answered in a very comforting 
manner : — 

31st of Twelfth mo., 1869 :— " I feel quite un- 
able at all adequately to recount the many mercies 
and blessings of the past year, both of a temporal 
and spiritual character. During this period 
having for the first time in my life continuously 
realized the blessing of being in some small 
measure truly united to the church and family 
of God, after a time of such deep trial and conflict 
during the early part of it as many times to have 
been led to despair of ever obtaining the victory 
over the enemies of my soul, and at others 
suffering grief unutterable from a sense of deep 
sinfulness. What a cause of the deepest thank- 
fulness it is that I have felt the love and 
tender mercy of my Saviour extended from 
time to time for my help, both immediately 
and instrumentally, and many times have been 
greatly helped by the ministry of several Friends 
in a manner adapted to the state of my feelings 



at the time. Once in an especial manner, when 
feeling for some time quite unable to arise from 
the power of the temptation which continuously 
assailed me, that it was impossible for me to 
overcome, that I must inevitably fall under the 
power of the enemy however much I might 
strive, Isaac Robson came to Leeds Meeting on 
First-day evening, and stating that he believed 
there were some present who were assaulted with 
such a temptation, and describing the very same 
that I have alluded to, showed' that it would be 
impossible for such in their own strength, but 
that all things were possible with God ; and that 
by keeping a single eye to the Captain of our 
salvation, the conquest would be obtained ; but 
that it was only to be found by such ceasing to 
rely on their own strength, and depending wholly 
upon the Saviour ; with much more very salutary 
advice on the necessity of great watchfulness, 
and frequent communion with God, and seeking 
for close communion with Him in secret. I felt 
my heart to overflow with gratitude in being thus 
graciously condescended to and mercifully 
helped, and have many times remembered with 
thankfulness that I have never since been 
seriously assailed with this temptation, or have 
been enabled to make a stand against it, remem- 



bering that ' when the enemy shall come in like 
a flood the Spirit of the Lord shall lift up a 
standard against him.' " 

M. Smith was regular in her attendance at 
meetings for worship and discipline as far as 
circumstances would permit ; and sometimes in 
the evening meetings, after a chapter had been 
read, she would explain it in a very clear way. 
On one of these occasions, not long before she 
died, she spoke especially to the children on the 
importance of prayer before commencing the 
duties of the day, and said how she was helped 
and refreshed by it for her daily work ; and also 
expressed in an impressive manner her sense of 
the uncertainty of life, with desires for all present 
that they might know a preparation when the 
call came. 

The summer before her decease she paid 
visits to most of her connections, which were 
felt to be particularly pleasant ; and one of her 
friends remarks after hearing of her decease : — 
" Her energy and interest at that time were 
wonderful. I much valued her fervent spirit 
and breadth of mind, and she seemed to be so 
marvellously enabled to keep bodily weakness in 



Exerting herself beyond her strength, she 
was the less able to withstand an attack of 
pneumonia, which proved fatal after two or three 
days, on the 27th of 10th month, 1896. It 
is a joy to her friends, whilst feeling their loss, 
to believe that her purified spirit is at rest from 
her labours, and is for ever with her Saviour 
whom she loved. 

Her loss was much felt in the neighbourhood 
by those of all classes ; and in a meeting held 
partly in connection with a series of temperance 
meetings which she had helped to organize, 
many testimonies were borne to the worth of 
her character and to her devoted and self-denying 
labours for the good of others. 

Samuel W. Smith, 63 14 6mo. 1897. 

Caroline Spence, 80 25 4m o. 1897. 

Tynemouth. An Elder. Widow of Joseph 

Joseph Staniland, 77 29 6mo. 1897. 

Margaret Steed, 55 16 8mo. 1897. 

Baldock. Widow of Oliver Steed. 
Grace I. Steib, 31 16 5mo. 1897. 

Leytonstone. Widow of Albert E. Steib. 



Bichard Sterry, 75 10 llmo. 1896. 


Elizabeth G. M. Steven- 39 29 5mo. 1897. 
ton, Scarborough. Wife of Stephen R. 

Rachel E. Stone, 75 12 12mo. 1896. 


Hannah Stott, 56 6 llmo. 1896. 


Allen Stringer, 70 8 5mo. 1897. 


Edward T. Sturge, 70 18 Imo. 1897. 


Hannah Sturge, 79 19 lOmo. 1896. 

Birmingham. Widow of Joseph Sturge. 
Mary Ann Swinborn, 81 30 9mo. 1897. 

Ledbury Road, London. Widow of John D. 


Elizabeth S. Sykes, 83 5 7mo. 1897. 

Birmingham. Wife of John Sykes. 
Clementine Taissaire, — 1 7mo. 1897. 

Montelimar, France. 
William Taylor, 79 26 2mo. 1897. 

Middlesborough . 
Elizabeth Thacker, 79 24 lmo. 1897. 




Francis J. Thompson, 83 30 12 1896. 

Bridgwater. A Minister. 

It has been remarked that the principles of 
the Society of Friends are favourable to the de- 
velopment of individuality of character ; and 
this may be said to be illustrated in the person 
of Francis James Thompson, of whom it is pro- 
posed to give a short sketch. Without great 
talents or unusual opportunities, he gained a 
position of much usefulness in various directions^ 
not the less efficient because his sphere was for 
the most part limited to that part of the West of 
England in which his life was spent. 

He was born in Bridgwater in 1813, received 
a plain education in Friends' Schools, and became 
an assistant in his father's business at the age of 
fifteen. In a little sketch of his early lif e y 
written a few years ago, he notes the manner in 
which children were formerly brought up ; that 
they received less sympathy from their elders 
than they do in the present day, and but little 
religious instruction and oversight. At the same 
time the Meeting he was brought up to attend 
was generally silent. Yet he remarks on the way 
in which he was preserved from temptations 
after leaving school, and how he had found it 
true that " the Lord is with you while ye be with 



Him, and if ye seek Him, He will be found of 
you." Amongst outward influences, he mentions 
with gratitude that of an uncle who was very 
kind to him, and used to take him out walks in 
the country. This uncle was a good botanist, 
and his nephew says, " I feel indebted to him 
for having excited my love for nature, or rather 
directed my thoughts to consider the works of 
the finger of God." The taste thus implanted 
continued through life. His friends will remem- 
ber especially his love of flowers — how he would 
bring in from his rambles a bunch of sweet 
woodruff or wild forget-me-nots, and put them 
in their hands with something of intense delight. 

Francis J. Thompson was a young man 
when he entered on his work for the temperance 
cause. The story has been told elsewhere of his 
being one of • the first to sign the pledge at a 
meeting held at Bridgwater in 1836, and of how 
when another meeting was attempted a week 
later, the forms of the Friends' Meeting House 
were broken in the wrath of the opponents. This 
incident was not one that would discourage 
Francis Thompson in the work. He was straight- 
forward and single-minded, and very indepen- 
dent. When he saw his way to any measure he 
would go right on, and nothing would turn him 



back. His advocacy of total abstinence was 
warm and consistent for a period of sixty years, 
and it formed for a long time, next to business 
engagements, his chief work. 

At the age of twenty-three he was united in 
marriage with Rebecca Stephens of Bridport. 
She was well fitted to be his companion and 
counsellor, to make his home happy, and to 
uphold him in every good work. They had a 
large family, and his children recall his tender- 
ness and comradeship when they were young, 
his sympathy with their pleasures, and even with 
their childish dislike of the tedium of lessons 
under a somewhat unsympathetic teacher. He 
was young with his children, especially during 
some happy years when, for the sake of his 
wife's health, they resided in a rural home. 

His religious life appears to have advanced 
steadily, and as it were step by step. Looking 
back on the past in the paper already quoted, he 
says : — "I thank God, not only that I did not 
despise the riches of His goodness and forbear- 
ance and long-suffering, but that He has led me 
to repentance, and made me (0 may I say), 
" Wise unto salvation through faith in Christ 
Jesus." There were many indications of the bent 
of his mind, and of his desire to serve God, 



although it was not till later on that, to use the 
words of a well-known writer, u the life of 
religion rose in strength and clearness in the 
character, and manifested itself by indubitable 
proofs." His spiritual life seemed to be much 
deepened during an illness in middle life, and it 
was soon after this that he began to take vocal 
part in meetings for worship, much to the com- 
fort and help of his own Meeting. His ministry 
had from first to last the same characteristics — 
earnestness and reality ; not fluency of utterance, 
but considerable freshness in the mode of express- 
ion. It is curious to read in a sketch of him as a 
politician, a description of his speeches, which 
might with little alteration be applied to his 
addresses in the ministry. Of these also it may 
be said that " they were simple, earnest, dignified 
utterances," which carried weight because they 
were " the out-spoken convictions of a righteous 
man." The depth of his religious feelings, his 
reverence and trust were evidenced in his often 
touching prayers, both in meeting and when 
surrounded by his family circle. 

From the period of his life just mentioned, 
Francis Thompson always felt that the advance- 
ment of the Kingdom of Christ was the cause 
dearest to his heart. But he had his own ideas 



as to modes of working, and did not readily unite 
with associations that were elaborately organized, 
even shrinking from arrangements which are 
generally found necessary for combined action in 
any good work. Accordingly, though con- 
sistently and by conviction a Friend, he never 
entered heartily into the work of the Society as- 
such. For years his face was familiar at his own 
Quarterly Meetings, but he did not like the usual 
careful and exact methods and routine. The 
same feeling showed itself in relation to 
other religious organizations ; he preferred 
aiding those who were working on their 
own lines with individual earnestness. When 
the late Lord Cavan and Lord Radstock were 
holding revival services in the West of England,, 
Francis Thompson was deeply interested, and 
helped to the utmost of his power. The Meeting 
House at Bridgwater was brought into requisition, 
and a weekly prayer meeting, then established 
there for any who liked to attend it, continued 
to be held for many years. The missions of Dr. 
Baedeker, whose name will be familiar to some, 
attracted his sympathy and support, and he also 
enjoyed his personal friendship. There were 
more private efforts, visits to one of the common 
lodging-houses in the town, and probably much 



besides which was very little known. As regards 
the cause of temperance and that of social purity, 
which was also very dear to his heart, he did not 
find it difficult to unite with the organizations 
employed, and the work brought him into friendly 
communication with persons of widely different 

Francis Thompson was one who, although' 
supremely interested in religious objects, was at 
the same time alive to everything that could 
benefit humanity, especially in his native town.. 
His hand and influence, as well as his material 
help, were felt in many things — in municipal 
matters, in the establishment of a Free Library,, 
the formation of the School Board, and other 
improvements in which Bridgwater has not been 
behind the times. He was Mayor of the town 
in 1883, when he gave the usual banquet without 
any alcoholic beverages ; and when, during his 
term of office, the licensing day was approaching, 
he issued a circular to the magistrates, declining 
to share the responsibility of granting or renewing 
any licenses whatever. He was afterwards made 
an Alderman, and later a representative on the 
County Council ; and in all these capacities he 
served his fellow-townsmen to the utmost of his 
power. u The more faith I have the happier I 




am, and the stronger I feel," were words spoken 
by him at a meeting in Bristol the year before 
his mayoralty ; and it was this faith working by 
love which prompted what he did, and also 
enabled him to subdue the faults of a tempera- 
ment not naturally serene. 

The golden wedding of Francis and Rebecca 
Thompson was celebrated at their home, Hamp 
Green, near Bridgwater, in the summer of 1886. 
They had lost three children, one in infancy and 
a son and a daughter, both married, who had died 
some years before. But there were nine surviv- 
ing, and of these all but one who was in India 
were able to gather on the happy occasion, a 
number of grandchildren being also present. It 
was a day of real rejoicing, and both parents 
were able to enter into it with thankful hearts. 
They were gratified by receiving a poem written 
for the occasion, concluding with these lines :— 

"And scarce can we believe what still we know, 
That bridal morn was fifty years ago. 
Time hath but lightly touched her hair and brow, 
And left his form erect, his step elastic now. 

' 'Blest in each other, in their children blest, 
O happy pair, whose love so true and tried 
Is dearer yet in His : the bidden Guest 

Whose presence cheers them more than all beside. 
He fills their cup with gladness to the brim, 
For they are one for evermore in Him." 



There were a few more years of compara- 
tively active service, and then Francis Thompson's 
health began to fail, and after repeated attacks- 
of illness it became evident that there was some 
loss of mental power. His beloved wife continued 
as ever bright in mind and spirit, but she had 
long been delicate, and was taken from him,, 
after a short illness, on her seventy-ninth birth- 
day, in the winter of 1893. He survived her 
three years, in a state of bodily and mental 
weakness, tenderly cared for by children and 
friends, and showing from time to time glimpses 
of the faith and love which had long been his. 
After a few days of increased feebleness he died 
on the 30th of Twelfth month, 1896. There was: 
a large gathering at the funeral, including the- 
Mayor and Corporation, companies of the- 
Kechabite Society and other temperance associa- 
tions, and a number of near and distant relatives- 
and friends. 

Letitia Thompson, 87 25 lmo. 1897.. 
Bournemouth. Widow of Samuel Thompson. 

Mary Maw Thompson, 84 13 7mo. 1897.. 
Gainsborough. Widow of Richard Thompson. 

Philip Thompson, 48 11 3mo. 1897- 

Ootacamund, South India. 



Eliza. Ventress, 64 27 lmo. 1897. 

Drighlington. Wife of Benjamin Ventress. 
Jane Walker, 72 5 4mo., 1897. 

Eccles. A Minister. Widow of Jonathan 


Mary Ann Walker, 32 22 9mo. 1897. 

Isaac Gray Wallis, 74 20 2mo. 1897. 
Wakefield. An Elder. 
Many in Pontefract Monthly Meeting and 
Yorkshire Quarterly Meeting will miss from their 
gatherings the cheerful greeting and genial 
presence of Isaac Gray Wallis. For more than 
rfif ty years he had been a diligent and thoughtful 
attender, and his warm interest in all matters 
concerning the welfare of the Society, and his 
kindly love to its members, only ceased with his 

He was born at Rothwell (pronounced Roel) 
Lodge, near Kettering, one of a family of ten 
•children. It was not a home of affluence, but 
the sturdy characters of his father and mother, 
Robert and Maria Wallis, left their mark upon 
all their children. It has often been our pleasure 
to hear I. G. Wallis speak of their struggles in 
life, and their firm adherence to principle. He 
.truly " honoured his father and mother." 



Isaac Gray Wallis first came into Yorkshire 
in going to Ackworth School. It was in the 
winter, and it seems to us rather hard for a boy 
thus to leave his home and parents, to ride- 
outside the coach in the cold, to stay the night 
with strangers at Wakefield, and then go on to- 
the " Boot and Shoe " at Ackworth Moor Top- 
in the morning. 

From Ackworth School he went apprentice 
to Francis Spence, at Dewsbury. In 1844, he 
commenced business as a hosier in Cross Square,, 
at Wakefield. In old prints of this part of the 
city we see the name over the shop front u I. GL 
Wallis," and until the end of Second month, 1897, 
when he died, no change had taken place in either 
principal or management. Around this shop and 
his home at Newton Lodge cluster the associations- 
of his life. To the shop there would often come 
some fellow townsman for advice or help. Many 
a well-known Friend has been welcomed there as- 
he came on errands for the cause of Truth. 

One of the notable features at the shop was 
the Monthly Meeting dinner in the cellar kitchen.. 
Newton Lodge was too far away for Friends to- 
go there who were returning home the same day,, 
and there was not another room on the business 
premises large enough, so that all who would 



come — high and low, rich and poor — found their 
way with a cordial welcome, and many a time 
with a hearty laugh, into " the cellar kitchen at 
the shop." It is pleasant to recall these occasions. 
Here it was that our Friend's character shone out, 
not only in ready wit, but in strong common 
■sense, and always in good humour. In remem- 
bering this constant brightness of spirit, it is 
instructive to believe that it was the outcome of 
genuine religious feeling. 

Though well known to almost everyone in 
this own city, he did not aspire to public office. 
He was, however, for some years a Guardian of 
the poor, and for nine years a member of and 
chairman of the Outwood School Board. 

His interest in Ackworth School never 
abated. For many years he was a member of 
its committee, and was so at the time of his 

To those who knew him, his memory will 
always be associated with the cause of temper- 
ance. He became an abstainer at the age of 
fourteen, and through all his life never ceased to 
advocate total abstinence on all suitable occasions. 
He was always a popular speaker on the subject, 
both in the city and in neighbouring towns and 



But to know him best and at his best was to 
know him at home. Gentleness and love went 
with him round his homestead, amongst his 
poultry and amongst his cattle. Never was he 
so happy as when, with his wife beside him, he 
was at work in the garden. All children loved 
him because he loved them. " Well, joy ! " was 
the usual opening in his intercourse with the 
little ones, and it was rarely that the little flower 
did not expand its petals to the sunshine in his 

His life, as he lived it, is his record. Occa- 
sionally he spoke in meetings for worship, and 
we believe it was always with acceptance by his 

Until within a year of his death, he was 
an active, fresh-looking man ; but during the 
last year he suffered from pernicious anaemia, 
under which he gradually wasted away. Through 
all this time of waning strength no murmur or 
complaint escaped him. There was no irritability. 
He bore his weakness with resignation, and until 
he became unconscious, he retained that cheerful- 
ness which had been so marked a characteristic 
of his life. And when at last the end came, he 
passed away quietly and painlessly 

" To where beyond these voices there is peace." 



Marriage Wallis, 77 1 6mo. 1897. 
Brighton. A Minister. 

When Marriage Wallis was twenty years 
old he wrote in his journal, " Heavenly Father, 
grant me I pray Thee no longer to halt between 
two opinions, but to fully and in earnest give 
myself up to serve Thee." He was then 
weighted with responsibilities beyond his years, 
and in a position requiring not only keen business 
energy, but much of heavenly wisdom to keep 
himself in his surroundings. Long and arduous 
hours left little time for self-cultivation, yet this 
was crowded in, There is a careful finish about 
the work even of this early period, which shows 
that self -reverence, self-knowledge, self-control 
were already watchwords with him, and that 
beyond this he realized the dignity of consecration 
as expressed in the words of his favourite poet : — 
"All is if I have grace to use it so 
As ever in my great Taskmaster's eye." 
In after life he often spoke of the controlling 
influences of the memory of a much loved 
mother, and of the wise, bright interest which 
his father took in the varied hopes and experiences 
of his family of eight sons. Another stimulat- 
ing and formative influence was his close 
companionship with his " dear old master and 



loved and esteemed relative, Isaac Bass." "Prompt 
and vigorous in action he seemed to impart to me 
a portion of his own spirit," is his testimony to the 
power this interesting and remarkable character 
exercised on his own. 

A little later responsibilities thickened 
around him. These were nobly shared, now as 
always, by his beloved wife, Hannah Thistle- 
thwaite of Sunderland, to whom he was united in 
1848. His own business cares, and still more 
those of others dear to him, were almost over- 
whelming at times, tasking his strength at last to 
the point of severe physical illness. " My 
prayer is," he writes, " that I may be enabled to 
fulfil my duties in business in the world without 
being swallowed up by it. Oh for the state of 
being in the world without being of the world. My 
many cares do grievously absorb my mind, and I 
believe that nothing will avail to help me herein 
but constant prayer. 

It appears likely that during this illness, 
which proved one of intense suffering, and 
demanded long seasons of enforced rest, the 
thought of service for others came more 
definitely before him. Opportunities came one by 
one as strength returned, and were as simply and 
promptly accepted. His humility and selfless- 



ness took the form of accepting services and 
responsibilities when they were put upon him, 
without shrinking from what it might involve to 
himself. Strength came with the burden. As a 
little lad his parents had placed the younger 
brothers under his charge, as he drove them to 
and from school in the town of Chelmsford. 
The confidence was not misplaced ; and the 
conscientious child, to whom the father refers in 
his journal with almost a tender reverence, grew 
up to be a man in whom it seemed a natural 
thing that other men and women, and little 
children too should implicitly trust. The little 
private office and his own room at home, were 
places to which it seemed that every form of 
sorrow could find its way for counsel and relief. 
Young men came with their confessions of sudden 
difficulty ; old men brought their hopeless story of 
broken down fortunes. His clear, perceptive mind 
rapidly summed up his visitor. No one stepped 
more decidedly upon hypocrisy, or had a sounder 
contempt for the " pride " that preferred secret, 
beggary to hard work. But his kindly sympathy 
acted like a tonic on the depressed and lonely 
ones, and many a word of sound manly advice 
and cheery encouragement sent the applicant the 
richer on his way. He was singularly apt in 



saying exactly the right word at the right time. 
K In one of the darkest days of my life," writes 
one, "I went to Mr. Wallis for counsel and com- 
fort ; and the sympathy I met with, the kindly 
grasp of the hand and inspiriting ' Be of good 
cheer,' with which the interview terminated, 
will never be forgotten. Often since then the 
words have come echoing across the dark waters' 
and the influence of that 1 Be of good cheer,' 
has again and again restored the failing powers 
of hope." " I shall never forget," said a lady to 
the writer, " going to him with an overwhelming 
anxiety. He listened to all, and then gently 
said : ( All I can say to you is this : — Peace, be 
still.' It was all that was needed, not only for 
that day. but for many other times of difficulty 
beside : the word of peace in a storm." 

He was a more or less active citizen of the 
town of Brighton for sixty-three years, and 
probably there was no one who during the 
greater part of that time had more influence in 
it, though he never sought it in a public capacity. 
But a constant and wide-reaching stream of 
activity flowed from his little business sanctum. 
Movements social, political, and religious, had 
their beginnings there. His predecessor, Isaac 
Bass, had established precedents which stood in 



political life for freedom, reform and absolute 
religious equality. These traditions were faith- 
fully adhered to, with perhaps less originality of 
method than in the olden time, but with equal 
pertinacity and high aim ; and probably Brighton 
never stood higher politically, than when the 
little coterie of clear-thinking, high-principled 
men, of which M. Wallis formed a leading 
member, was the influential power of the town. 
Temperance, it is needless to say, was a branch 
of social duty he felt keenly and personally. 
Some of the most interesting passages of his life 
might be taken in connection with the histories 
of those he was able to help, which those who 
heard them graphically described by his own lips 
can never forget. He did not confine his interest 
to the drunkard in the street. He was faithful 
to men and women in his own standing. Medical 
men, friends in distress, would come to him for 
help in cases of secret, but no less terrible tempta- 
tion. Here the sympathy, tact and common 
sense that distinguished him had special play, 
though probably the spiritual forces of faith and 
prayer were the actual conquering power. Nor 
was it an unusual thing for a strong bond of 
intense reverence and love to arise out of work 
in this direction. " Ink is too dark," writes one 



of these restored ones, a man of some position 
and ability, whose rescue twice accomplished 
from a drunkard's grave, is a story of remarkable 
interest, — " Ink is too dark to be used in writing 
of the beloved one ; pure and shining gold are but 
feeble tokens of such a life." 

But undoubtedly the subjects he made most 
his own were the School Board and the Young 
Men's Christian Association. In the former he 
arduously worked, chiefly in the position as 
vice-chairman and chairman, for thirteen years, 
closely associated in this work, as in many others, 
with his friend and partner Daniel Hack. This 
work, and his position in later years as a magis- 
trate, brought him into close and sympathetic 
interest with the poor of the town, to whom he 
was always a true friend ; as also with the police, 
whom as a body he did his best to raise and help, 
combining with another to provide them with an. 

With no interest however is he more closely 
identified that with that of the Y.M.C.A. The 
large number of young men at Brighton, most 
of them cut off from all home associations and 1 
exposed to many temptations, appealed to him. 
He saw the value of the organization of the 
Y.M.C.A. as a means of reaching and holding 




them, and in the face of many discouragements, 
after years of quiet work, succeeded, in con- 
junction with others, in providing Brighton with 
.a very fine Institute which has become a centre 
of great and far-reaching usefulness to the young 
men of that town, as well as to many who visit 
it from other places. As President he threw 
into this work not only time and money, but 
some of the best energies of his life. Its 
interests were his, and no joy was greater than 
when there were definite results in the changed 
lives and characters of the members. Many 
touching letters, both during his life-time and 
-since he has been taken from their head, attest the 
power he was among them. Broad in sympathy 
and generous in spirit, the reality of his genial, 
joyous Christianity was a gospel to be read of 
all men. 

Probably his first concern for those outside 
our borders was for his own workmen, for 
whom for many years he held a meeting every 
week, fresh, real, and invigorating, which had a 
distinct work. There was always a spirit of 
true comradeship between master and men, and 
their earthly as well as spiritual well-being lay 
.near his heart. 

When, in the year 1870, M. Wallis was 



acknowledged a Minister, the Meeting at 
Brighton largely consisted of birthright members. 
Gradually however, owing to Adult School work, 
the tract districts, and other agencies, a con- 
siderable influx of new member and attenders 
were added to the congregation. With eager 
solicitude he accepted this new responsibility, 
entering warmly into all plans for the careful 
shepherding of the flock. His genial sympathy 
and kindliness went out to any and all who came,, 
and, combined with wise oversight and fatherli- 
ness, wrought a strong bond around the whole- 
congregation. The remarkable power was his* 
of making everyone conscious of his kindly 
interest and welcome. 

He was a thorough " Friend," and gave some- 
of his best energies to the affairs of the church,, 
taking living interest in meetings for discipline 
and all work arising from them, including the 
Yearly Meeting. 

" His ministry was singularly fresh anJ 
invigorating. No man was his copy. Scriptural 
exposition he enjoyed. There was an orignality 
that won, while there was a readiness to learnt 
from all. As years ran on there was a maturity 
of sympathy and of large heartedness in his 
gospel addresses that made it evident to those- 



who listened to him that he drank from the 
original source of all true inspiration, the well- 
spring of life in Christ Jesus." — (From "The 

But in his ministry the power lay behind the 
words — in the character. In his journals there is 
no prayer so often raised as for purity of heart 
and singleness of aim. Herein lay the secret 
which made his strength "as the strength of 
ten." " Quiet and self-contained," says one who 
knew him, "the secret of this holy calm was 
surely to be found in the expressed intensity 
of the power imparted by purity of heart." The 
object of his life seemed to be to maintain the 
unity of the spirit in the bond of peace. This is 
an extremely difficult plane of life on which to 
move ; but if any one reached it and lived upon 
it he did. When in full vigour his offices as 
peacemaker were in constant request. 

In the many letters, amounting to several 
hundreds, since his death, nothing is more striking 
ithan the frequent remark: "He was my best 
friend"; showing the quality of heart that could 
make one man stand first with so many about 
him, the more remarkable when we consider this 
love was won without effort, and simply in 



response to little acts of kindness and thought- 
fulness it was his nature to give. 

But joy is the light that reaches farthest out 
to sea ; and his bright, healthy temperament,, 
which never harboured bitterness, but ever 
thought the best of all, had a singularly attractive- 
power. " Life is too short to take offence,'' was 
one of his sayings. He had a ready eye for the- 
many-sidedness of life, in the best sense warmed 
both hands at its fires, enjoyed and loved the 
beauty around him, and as life narrowed with 
increasing infirmity, and the outer world retired, 
he stepped back with a sweet patience into the- 
rich kingdom of his own mind, and within the 
walls of his own home and the garden which he- 
dearly loved, found and rejoiced in no less real 
sources of happiness — his flowers, his books, and 
the pretty interests of his little grandchildren. 

The shadow of his life fell, when, with but 
a few days' warning, his beloved wife, the true- 
companion of his life, was taken from him. This- 
overwhelming blow did not strike him to the- 
earth, though rapidly increasing physical weak- 
ness had made him increasingly dependent upon 

His buoyant hope and faith raised him above 
the present sorrow to the future beyond. " Many 



limes to-day," he writes on the anniversary of 
his loss, "has her beloved form been before my 
mind's eye ; but a voice whispers, £ She is not 
here' ; and then the humble faith comfortably 
whispers too, ' She is with her Saviour in heaven.' 
Lord, prepare me to rejoin her there when my 
time shall come." 

More than three years of waiting followed, 
years of suffering and limitation, borne with 
patience and fortitude. In this time nothing 
afforded him greater delight than the reading of 
John Bunyan's works, especially the u Pilgrim's 
Progress." In spite of increased mental weak- 
ness his chief refuge was prayer ; and his tender 
thought for others was often touchingly present. 
On the 1st of Sixth month, 1897, with his children 
around him, the call came, and in great calm he 
stepped down through the river and entered in at 
the beautiful Gate of the City. 
Joseph Walls, 40 27 4mo. 1897. 

Waverton, Liverpool. 
Lydia J. Walter 50 23 4mo. 1897. 

Tring. Wife of John Walter. 
Robert Warner, 81 17 12mo. 1896. 


Hannah E. Watson, 78 10 4mo. 1897. 


John A. Watson, 79 29 6mo. 1897. 

Kings Cross Road, London. 
Mary Ann Watson, 67 11 5mo. 1897. 

Dmiwood, Stoke-on-Trent. Wife of John W. 


Eliza F. Watts, 27 9 5mo. 1897. 

Higher Broughton. Daughter of Joseph and 

Hannah Watts. 
William Webley, 81 27 lOmo. 1896. 

Hambrook, Gloucester. 
Thomas Wedmore, 88 5 2mo. 1897. 

Druids' Stoke, near Bristol. 
Marian I. Wedmore, 39 25 llmo. 1896. 

Druids' 1 Stoke. Daughter of Thomas Wedmore. 
It was on the 18th of Third month, 1857, 
that Isabelle Wedmore was born at Stoke Hill 
Cottage, Stoke Bishop, Bristol. Her lameness 
as a child, and several painful operations on her 
foot, made her life different, in some respects, 
from that of other young children, and she early 
began to write stories, and to find in the world 
of imagination the pleasures that were denied 
her in the world of sense. Perhaps it was her 
childish experience of pain which taught her that 
patience and composure under it so memorable 
throughout her life, and especially in her last 
short, distressing illness. 



From a bright, intelligent, sweet-tempered 
child, she grew into a high-minded girl, gentle 
and dreamy for the most part, but waking, ever 
and again, to sudden acts of unselfish helpful- 
ness. In her school days she was never satisfied 
without getting to the bottom of everything. 
" You will know all about it," her music-master 
would say, in response to her many questions ; 
and the other teachers said the same. She was 
particularly interested at that time in anything 
mathematical or scientific, but was conscientious 
and painstaking in everything, carefully thinking 
out what she had to do. The earnestness of pur- 
pose and deep thoughtf ulness that characterised 
her at school were no less striking in her later 
life , and were brought to bear upon the smallest 
details. Such was her consciousness of the 
importance of details, that to her there were no- 
such things : all were linked to and part of 
a great whole, and involved principles. This 
perception of principle, which was shown more 
lately and most strongly with regard to conduct 
and all that concerned the moral and spiritual 
life, also marked, as her youngest sister remem- 
bers, her early study of science, physical and 
moral. She would know facts in Botany,. 
Physiology, or Political Economy, not as facts,, 


but as expressions of an underlying law or 
tendency, so that all she touched, whether it was 
the intellectual study of earlier days, or later, the 
conscious development of the spiritual life, 
was marked by the same characteristic. 

As a subject for reading, Italy was the one 
that lasted longest. It began with reading 
Mazzini, and with her own ideas of what a State 
should be ; then she went back to Savonarola, in 
whom as a man and- a philosopher she was 
intensely interested. She took a great interest 
in the "Makers of Modern Italy," both in the 
little book of that name, and in Italian politics. 
Her reading of latter years had been more on the 
study of the Bible, as Westcott's " Introduction 
to the study of the Gospels"; and on Christian 
evidences, as Tylor's " Witnesses for Christ," 
which she was reading at the time of her 

Many felt that the strongest impression she 
made on them was that of her intense desire to 
do right, and her equally strong craving that 
those whom she loved should care above all 
things to do right. When she prayed aloud it 
was almost always that she might be made 
to know the will of God and to do it. Her 
conception of prayer was almost worthy of 



a Marcus Aurelius or a Liddon. We quote her 
own words : — 

" To pray puts the spirit under her native 
skies, where she can draw sweet breath and bathe 
the eyes with that light which drenches all the 
air, and look up, and behold ! no pause, no 
hindrance to the everlasting deeps, answering 
for ever in blue to her limitless regard." 

Her concern for others, as we have said, was 
very real and great, and it was one of her most 
earnest longings to make use of some of the 
things she had learned, for their benefit. This 
longing for a sphere of work was never fully 
satisfied, and her soul was always in quest of the 
happiness of definite and concentrated service. 
But the unconscious service of her influence was 
a fact of daily life. Hardly any could come 
into contact with her at her best, and not be the 
gainer by it ; and to sympathetic minds she was 
a revelation of the pure in heart, who even now 
on earth are seeing God. 

A Quaker in every-day life, she believed that 
if she looked for and waited upon the Inner 
Light, it would show the way to be followed 
every hour ; and, acting on this belief, she not 
only did what she felt she should do, but also she 
refrained from doing a thing unless she felt led 



to it. That she sometimes mistook her own 
fancies for a Divine leading, and failed to " try 
the spirits " before she followed them, was per- 
haps inevitable to an impulsive temperament ; 
but her great uprightness and sense of duty kept 
her on the whole in the paths of wisdom. 

More than once she spoke in Meeting, and 
nearly always made a point of keeping silence as 
she went to it. Her appreciation of silence is 
brought out in a " Thought on Quaker Society " : — 

" One of the things I so much appreciate in 
Quaker society, is that in an ordinary call 
silence can come not only not amiss (to be driven 
out at any cost), but as a welcome form of grace, 
out of which may spring a touch of thought 
totally impossible to people who don't know the 
vitality of silence." 

It was thought rather striking, at the Yearly 
Meeting of 189.6, that one comparatively young, 
as she was, should have had the courage to ask 
for a time of united prayer when a Friend had a 
concern to go and speak in the Men's Meeting. 
This Friend was much touched by her request, 
and said it was a great strength to her in that 
hour of need. 

Isabelle Wedmore was a comforter and 
friend to many. " I can feel what her loss is to 



those she belonged to," said one in the humble 
walks of life, "if to me it is so sad." She 
was cordial in her manner to strangers, and quite 
ready to be friendly ; but only her chosen friends 
knew all her responsiveness, her clinging depen- 
dence, her tender gravity. She had a u glowing 
smile," and a "gentle enthusiasm which showed 
itself more in her eyes than in her words." Her 
sense of humour was keen, her laugh most in- 
fectious, and her enjoyment of games and her 
excitement over them carried everyone away 
with it. 

It seems almost impossible to write an 
account of Isabelle and to say nothing of her 
sister Mary, who died in Sixth month, 1895. In 
this place it may be of interest to mention that 
for the last two years of her life Mary had reported 
the Women's Yearly Meeting for the " British 
Friend " with that thoroughness and grasp of 
her subject which characterised all she under- 
took; and her brother Frederick Wedmore says, 
"It is fitting to declare how much her clear in- 
telligence, calm sweetness, and serviceable 
wisdom in the affairs of life were the needed 
corrective, or, if we prefer it, the helpful com- 
plement of the characteristics that were especially 



On the 5th of Second month, 1897, their 
father, Thomas Wedmore, died, in his eighty- 
ninth year. 

Isabelle died at Druids' Stoke on the 25th, 
of Eleventh month, 1896 ; and when she was laid 
by her mother and sister in the little graveyard 
at Laurence Weston, there were many to whom 
the world was left emptier than before. But 
there are thoughts of comfort for those who still 
feel her influence amongst them now that she 
has entered the fuller life — thoughts which find 
utterance in the writings of several of her 
friends. " There she is with her soaring spirit, 
which was nearly always in an intense state of 
aspiration towards the Divine and the beautiful, 
there she is with the earthly instrument, 
the brain and the body, just thrown off and 
leaving her free. 11 Another friend writes, " She 
was here a most spiritual creature, occupied 
wholly with the breath that blows from the 
mysteries of Life and Love fanned into a flame 
under its inspiration. That is why I call her 
spiritual rather than religious ; she did not rest, 
she aspired and sought and glowed and scarcely 
knew whither the winds of God carried her." 
The same friend has written these lines "In 
Memoriam " : — 




"Isa, thou wert to me 

As a sea-bird wheeling athwart the sea. 
I watched thee passing by 

Ocean, and ocean-sky, 
And all thy play was with Infinity. 

Now thou art gone, 
Thou art to me 

As a fair halcyon ; 
Life's rocking sea 

Smooths itself out for thee to rest upon." 

Isabella Weir, 16 26 lmo. 1897. 

Newry. Daughter of the late James Weir. 

Anna E. Whiting, 68 6 3mo. 1897. 

Headhigley. A Minister. Wife of John 

Anna Rebecca Whiting was bom in Bristol 
on the 18th of Fourth month, 1829. She was 
the daughter of James and Mary Gilpin, her 
mother being a sister of the late Joseph Sturge. 
She was a member of a family of fifteen, thirteen 
of whom grew up to maturity. Her mother died 
when she was thirteen years old, whilst she was 
at school at Sidcot, where her lively spirits and 
bright temperament made her a general favourite. 
Whilst engaged in First-day School work at 
Peckham she met with John Whiting, to whom 



she was married in 1850, and at once took charge 
of the business house at Leeds. 

Though she was unable to speak of any 
definite time of conversion, she thus records the 
Divine dealings with her : — " Though a most 
troublesome girl and a cause of grief to my 
mistress and teachers, I had some precious 
vistings ; this was more particularly the case at 
meetings. When listening to the ministry of dear 
Mary Tanner, I was brought to feel that if I only 
yielded to the pointings of duty, the constraining 
influence of a Heavenly Father's love, I should 
also have to resign myself to the same important 

It was on Fourth month 1st, 1855, when 
nearly twenty-six years of age, that she first said 
a few words in the ministry at a meeting for 
discipline, and was wonderfully strengthened to 
do it. She felt discouraged afterwards at no 
sensible advance in her religious experience 
resulting from it. She hoped it would have been 
far otherwise, and added, " Perhaps it is intended 
to teach me entire dependence on my Saviour. 
Grant me patience, oh my God." 

In 1863, after the death of a young sister-in- 
law, she says : — " So solemnly was I impressed 
with the uncertainty of life and the touching 



scene of this young and interesting girl laid in a 
state of unconsciousness, and if the work of her 
soul's salvation had not been attended to in the 
time of health there would have been no oppor- 
tunity, that I felt as if commissioned with a 
message from that bed of death to our dear 
younger Friends, that they might be led earnestly 
to consider their latter end. In pursuance of 
this view, I drew up a short account of our dear 
sister, together with that of one of her dearest 
friends who had died rather suddenly some three 
weeks before. Friends most kindly made way 
for me to hold a few meetings, which I trust 
will not have been in vain. I felt that in my 
utter weakness, and in much fear and trembling, 
God helped me to deliver the message com- 
mitted to me : to Him be all the glory. Meetings 
have been held at Leeds, Sheffield, Bradford, 
Huddersfield, Halifax, and Ackworth, at all of 
which dear Friends were enabled to help me and 
share the concern with me. In the retrospect of 
this little service peaceful are my feelings, and 
I can add my testimony to the truth that the 
Lord is indeed no hard Master, but that even to 
the very feeblest of His followers He is pleased 
to make hard things easy and crooked things 
straight, and to be a very present helper in every 
time of need. 



A deep sense of her own unworthiness led 
to searchings of heart as to whether her Lord 
had entrusted to her the responsible service of 
the ministry of the Word. In this time of 
spiritual conflict entries in her journal speak 
gratefully of the help she derived from the 
loving sympathy and counsel of Benjamin 
Seebohm. She was recorded a Minister in 1870, 
and though at the time she felt deeply impressed 
with the solemn responsibility thus laid upon 
her, she was enabled calmly to leave the decision 
of her friends in God's hands. She felt it would 
be wrong to fear that the earnest prayer of so 
many of the Lord's children would be dis- 

Shortly after this she was taken ill with a 
very serious attack of typhoid fever, accompanied 
with ten days of unconsciousness. On her re- 
covery she writes: — "My warm welcome back 
to life has been very humiliating ; I am now 
deeply feeling the responsibility of a spared life. 
Oh that it may be spent in the Lord's service ! " 

There are many who can remember her 
first address in meeting after this illness, from 
the words, " When I see the blood I will pass 
•over you." In the course of it she dwelt on her 
experiences in the Border Land from which she 



had been recalled, and on her sense of the precious- 
ness of the atoning blood. 

She was warmly interested in all the work 
of the Society of Friends, and for thirty years, 
with only one omission, attended the Yearly 

After being for eleven years at or near the 
table of the Women's Yearly Meeting, she 
expected to be released from office, and had her- 
self offered prayer for wisdom, and that the mind 
of some dear Friend might be prepared to fill the 
office of Clerk, when she was much surprised at 
hearing her own name proposed, and supported to 
such an extent that she felt this must be in 
accordance with the Divine will. But " Oh ! ' 
she writes, " I felt so humbled and crushed as if 
I should like to get out of sight of everyone ; the 
feeling was almost overwhelming. I thought of 
the dear devoted women who had rilled that 
position, and queried if it were possible that I 
could follow them. I felt greatly troubled ; but 
He who said to the angry billows, ' Peace be 
still,' did not desert me in the time of need 
With great sweetness the words were brought to 
my remembrance, ' In quietness and confidence 
shall be your strength ' ; and through the whole 
Yearly Meeting I proved their truth. The con- 


stant breathing of my soul was ' Lord, help me,' 
and He always did." 

A. R, Whiting gave unstinted personal 
service in ministering to the sick and dying, in 
days when trained nurses were not obtainable ; 
and she rarely paid such visits without taking 
flowers in her hand to cheer the patients and 
brighten the sick room. The work above all 
others that lay near to her heart was the super- 
vision of the Headingley Orphan Homes, which 
developed, under her hands, from a company of 
eight children in a hired house in 1865, to 
seventy-six, in four permanent homes. The last 
was opened, as were the rest, free of debt, in 
1885, when she says, " What a joy to have 
another home for the children. I shall never be 
thankful enough to God for permitting me to 
labour in this field of service, gathering in the 
children, and I trust training them for Him. 
We have had abundant blessing in the work, with 
very few discouragements ; all glory to His 

Many other forms of active service occupied 
her ; among these were the Workhouse and 
Infirmary visitation, which she continued for 
twenty-nine years ; mothers' meetings ; superin- 
tendence of Bible women ; and rescue work. 



The temperance cause always found in her 
an earnest advocate. She invariably carried in 
her purse two or three pieces of blue ribbon ready 
for bestowal when occasion offered. In 1887 she 
was allowed to read an address from the Women's 
Christian Temperance Union to the Congrega- 
tional Union, then holding its meetings in Leeds. 
She says : — " I shrank from it very much, when 
the subject of an address was first mentioned. 
I rebelled against it, thinking I might have to 
present it ; and when it was prepared I wrote 
such a letter with it as to make it most easy to 
refuse a deputation. But a note came from Dr. H. 
saying we might come and also be allowed to 
speak. Oh, what searching of heart, what 
earnest prayer ! There was little sleep that 
night, and truly we went in fear and trembling ; 
but after united prayer the fear seemed taken 
away. Never shall I forget the solemn feeling 
of standing before about a thousand ministers 
and delegates. I thought of their immense influ- 
ence in the cause for which I pleaded. I seemed 
to realize as I stood before them the misery and 
degradation brought about by drink, the wretched 
drunkards, the poor little children, etc., and then 
how these men might help in the cause. I 
pleaded with them in a few simple words, but 



words, I reverently believe, accompanied by the 
power of the Holy Ghost, which went home to 
the heart in a wonderful manner. There were 
few dry eyes. It was the Lord's doing and 
marvellous in our eyes ; to Him be all the glory. 
Numerous were the testimonies given to the 
impressive effect upon the meeting. Surely it 
will do good, for our God did answer prayer." 

Anna R. Whiting was often asked to use 
her gift in the ministry in connection with other 
denominations. Of one of these occasions she 
writes in 1892 : — " I was asked to speak in 
Belgrave Chapel at a meeting for men. I felt 
it a solemn responsibility — between six and 
seven hundred men present. The Lord's presence 
was with me and He gave His help in delivering 
the message. As I was walking away a gentle- 
man joined- me and said the message bad gone 
home to him. He spoke with tears and also with 
joy as he told me he had decided for Christ. 
Oh ! it was so good of God to let me have this 
encouragement. I very seldom see any fruit of 
my ministry, and my heart was just filled with 
gratitude. I kept on saying, u Praise the Lord," 
to think He should use such a poor, weak instru- 
ment in the salvation of a soul ! I think I never 
felt such true joy." 



Perhaps the great charm of her life and that 
which endeared her to all who knew her, was the 
practical Christianity, the warm-hearted kindli- 
ness that pervaded her character. Wherever she 
met with the helpless, the fallen or the sufl: ering r 
she was ready with eager willingness to render 
assistance and extend loving sympathy. One part 
of her every day work is well described in the 
simple lines : — 

" If a smile we may renew, 
As our journey we pursue, 
Oh ! the good we all may do 
As the days are going by." 
She would often triumphantly say, "I made her 
smile before I left her." 

In 1890 A. R. Whiting's family removed to 
a new house at Cliff -side. In reference to this 
she writes : — " We are so very grateful that such 
a house has been provided for us ; it is so far 
beyond our utmost expectations ; we do desire to- 
make it a happy sojourning place for many of 
God's dear children, and that it may be used for 
His glory." That this desire has been fulfilled 
not a few can testify ; and many a helpful 
gathering has been held there, both for prayer and: 

For the last two or three years she was 
conscious of somewhat failing powers, though 



others noticed little abatement of her cheerful 1 

On the First-day, the 28th of Second month,, 
she spoke with much solemnity in the morning 
meeting for worship, from the words, " Behold 
a greater than Solomon is here." She gave a< 
warm motherly welcome to two young women' 
engaged in business, whom she had taken pains 
to invite to spend the day at Cliff-side, and she 
was again down at the evening meeting. On 
Second-day morning she presided as usual 
at the committee meeting of the Women's 
Christian Temperance Union, held in her 
drawing-room, and took part in the arrange- 
ments for the meetings to be held, at which she- 
was to preside. She went at noon to address a 
meeting of the Young Women Students' Inter- 
collegiate Christian Union, and in the evening 
had a sudden desire to join the happy gathering 
of the women's class at Burley Road, and to see 
her daughter-in-law preside ; so she went down, 
alone ; and it was remarked how " bonny" andi 
happy she was looking. 

She had eagerly looked forward to a few 
days in London, during the sittings of the 
Friends' Foreign Mission Committee, which her 
husband, her daughter and her son-in-law were 



to attend, and had, as she said, " a delightful 
programme " before her. She joined the Friends 
in the Meeting for Sufferings room previous to 
the Missionary Prayer Meeting, where her loving 
greetings were welcomed by many. Meeting 
over, she accompanied W.H. to Westfield 
College, to visit her grand-daughter and niece, 
spending an hour in their rooms, having cocoa 
with them and visiting their friends, delighting 
•them with her bright, sympathetic interest. 

While dressing the next morning she 
felt a dull pain in her chest and back. The 
doctor's diagnosis was neuralgia of the heart. 
The pain became so severe that it was with 
difficulty that she got to bed. During the morn- 
ing she referred to the possibility of her not 
returning to Leeds, and spoke lovingly of 
her grandchildren, especially remembering the 
youngest, " dear little Johnnie." She told the 
doctor that she wanted to get well : " You know 
I have seventy children to look after." 

In the evening she found pleasure in listen- 
ing to the singing of a few hymns, and she 
;spoke of and repeated some lines of a piece of 
poetry she was fond of, commencing with 

' ' Rock of Ages, cleft for me, 
Carelessly the maiden sang." 



When morning came, she listened to the 111th 
Psalm, and added "Amen" to a prayer for 
strength and comfort for the day. About an 
hour after this came a sudden access of pain, and 
in a few moments, before her husband could 
reach the bedside, her spirit had fled. 

* ' The music of her life is nowise stilled, 
But blended so with song around the throne 
of God, 

That our poor ears no longer hear it." 

21 lOmo. 1896. 

6 7mo. 1896. 

2 2mo. 1897. 

15 5mo. 1897. 

26 - lmo. 1897. 

13 2mo. 1897. 
West Hartlepool. Widow of Edward Withy. 
John Wood, 74 15 12mo. 1896. 

Newhouse, Highflatts. An Elder. 
Elizabeth Wood, 75 4 2mo. 1897. 

Newhouse. An Elder. Widow of John Wood. 

James Williams, 64 

Howth, Dublin. 
Thomas Williams, 69 

The Pales. 
Elizabeth Willis, 61 

Mary Wilson, 68 

Thomas Wilson, 64 

Sarah Withy, 86 



'George He rbert Wood, 18 26 3mo. 1897. 
Sheffield. Son of the late John and of Catherine 

Joshua S. Wood, 62 1 5mo. 1897. 

Sibford Ferris. 
Sophia Wood, 67 9 5mo. 1897. 


Elizabeth Woodhead, 58 5 12mo. 1895. 

Walter S. Woodhouse, 17 12 12mo. 1896. 
Limerick. Son of W. J. and Annie Wood- 

Henry Wormall, 75 1 2mo. 1897. 

llfracom be. 

Lucy Wormall, 75 22 lmo. 1897. 

llfracombe. Wife of Henry Wormall. 
Samuel Wright, 76 11 lOmo. 1896. 

Cork. An Elder. 

Infants whose names are not inserted : — 

Boys. Girls. 
Under three months ..33 
From three to six months . 
Erom six to twelve months . 2 1